


Bitten Dreams

by kelly_goosecock



Category: Persona 4, Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Biting, Boys Kissing, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Piercings, Scars, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelly_goosecock/pseuds/kelly_goosecock
Summary: Ryuji still has some growing up to do. Perhaps he's not the only one...
Relationships: Sakamoto Ryuji/Tatsumi Kanji
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> not done yet. have a vague conclusion in mind. hopefully i will have more within the month depending on how i'm feeling. this chapter is more or less done as far as i'm concerned, i just wanted to get this up for now, all the tags and stuff will be updated accordingly. slightly fudging canon dates\ages for reasons that should be obvious.
> 
> title lifted from "carry stress in the jaw" by mr bungle

_Man_ was this stupid. Far beyond the kind of stupid Ryuji was used to - this was _dangerously_ stupid. That said, he had to fight for his cause to the bitter end. How much more dangerous was this than taking on hordes of unexplainable magic beasts? 

Downtown Shibuya was fairly safe at night. Even into the wee hours of the morning, criminals would not risk pulling stunts in a place where a cop, surveillance camera, or unexpected witness could be hiding at any turn. 

Venture a little too far away, though…

Nevermind. They needed info, and fast. How the hell else could they take down a mob boss? They didn't even know his goddamn name! Sure, Ryuji had agreed with the others not to try any risky shit and to pursue the sparse leads they had, but was that really gonna be enough? Could they really get to a guy before the cops by asking their effin' _schoolmates?_

It wouldn't be a problem. As late as it was, Ryuji would keep his distance from even the slightest of perceived threats, and if shit went _super_ south, he was a world class runner. Yakuza or no, no one was quicker than Ryuji Sakamoto.

Ryuji couldn't decide whether it was fortunate or unfortunate that nobody was around. All he wanted was to catch a name or maybe a face, but if the streets were truly peppered with foes, it might not matter how fast he could run. Nonchalantly, and with a black hoodie cinched over his distinctive hair, he slunk past progressively less inviting storefronts. This wasn't a popular place, exactly - no open bars, not many big chains… 

_"Was it worth it, dumbfuck?"_

Shit! There was someone in an upcoming alley - from the sounds of it, _multiple_ someones. Ryuji ducked into a doorway. There was a disturbingly hollow _thud,_ followed by a weak groan.

_"Think you're fuckin' Batman or somethin', huh, prick?"_

A different, more muffled _thump_ forced its way into Ryuji's ears, sending an all-too-familiar tingle through his skull.

A second voice spoke up.

_"He's had enough. Don't want to have to deal with a body, do you?"_

A sigh.

_"...right. Now where'd the little brat run off to?"_

Uh oh, those were definitely footsteps. Ryuji was a few doors down from the alleyway, but if whoever was down that alley decided to walk _his_ direction, he would have to book it like a _mother-effer._ As much as he had confidence in that ability, shit was finding new and interesting ways to go south. Besides, he had a sickening inkling as to the origin of the sounds he heard. He didn't think anything _that_ extreme would happen as close to downtown as he was. 

As the footsteps and occasional voices of the two (or were there three? Ryuji didn't have the courage to look) unknown men faded away, Ryuji felt as if some god somewhere had done him a personal favor. He put himself in harm's way and ostensibly witnessed the acts of some kind of organized criminals, but still got off scot free. Well, there was still one issue left before he was ready to turn tail and get the eff home. 

...and he _really_ didn't want to deal with it.

...he didn't even want to confirm his suspicions.

Unfortunately, fate willed that his kind nature would overcome common sense once again, and he slipped from his hiding spot to the corner of the alley. 

Oh _shit._

Oh _shit, oh shit, oh shit._

 _Please_ don't be fucking dead.

There was a guy - freakishly tall, and anything but lanky - crumpled over in the middle of the alleyway. In the dark, it was impossible to see if his chest was moving. Hell, it was hard to see what part of him _was_ his chest - it looked as if he had been thrown against the road with some considerable force, and had lacked the will to move his body from where it had landed.

Something icy gripped Ryuji's heart and pulled hard, sending an uncanny ringing through his ears. He pressed on towards the heap of limbs.

_Oh shit, oh shit-_

He found himself whispering it repeatedly, so hushed as to be near silent. He was barely mouthing the words while uncontrollable shivers pushed his tiny, hushed voice into the mantra.

With some difficulty, and though it did not feel difficult nor did it feel like anything remotely real, Ryuji pulled the man flat on his back.

His mantra was silenced.

Even in the dark, he could see the small pools of blood that had formed on the stone road. He could smell it, although he did not really smell it. He could feel his heartbeat's threatening pulse, though he did not really feel it. He moved his hands from somewhere out in space. As a matter of fact, it was beginning to occur to Ryuji that, more than anything, he was _very_ far from home. 

Thankfully - and there are not enough 'thank you's in the world to convey Ryuji's thankfulness - he felt the man's chest rise.

_"Hey! Hey! Dude! Fuck, please just wake up."_

Ryuji placed a hand on the man's cheek, accidentally rubbing his thumb against the trail of blood dribbling from the man's nose, and-

Wait, was _this_ guy yakuza? All those piercings… there were almost as many scars. Rings and studs through everything. Pale pink lines in tandem…

Yakuza… yakuza… why would that be a problem if Ryuji was saving his life? He knew there was some kind of hang-up, but-

Oh, shit. If he called the authorities, who knows what would happen? If this guy was some kind of disgraced gangster and Ryuji sent him to a hospital, would the guy drop dime on whoever beat him up? That would make _Ryuji_ at least a little bit responsible, and he knew how criminals treated anyone who they saw as a snitch. It sucked, and it was a massive pain in the ass, but in the moment, Ryuji could only see one place he could take this guy.

Just as he had begun to be able to process the situation - mostly thanks to the fact that the man was not, in fact, dead - Ryuji was jolted off balance again.

The man opened his eyes, and grunted something.

_"Hnnh… Hwha?...who…?"_

_"Ohmygod, ohmygod, thank_ ** _fucking_** _god,_ _oh my-"_ Ryuji chattered as be began once more to shiver unconsciously.

_"Hnnh…"_

_"Can you stand? Shit, um- oh shit, just- gimme your hand, dude, um-"_

………

Akira's heart sunk. He read the message again.

Ryuji: WAKE UP NEED UR ROOM NOT A JOKE IM OMW

God damn it all. Ryuji had been irresponsible in the past, but all of that would swiftly become impossible to look past if he had done anything as bad as his message made things seem. They had _agreed_ not to go out at night or mess with the mob directly. Akira couldn't tell whether to worry more for the harm Ryuji had potentially succumbed to or for the fact that some kind of slip up on his _best friend's_ part may have just cost the lives of him and his companions. 

Well, it would be better to save the mourning until he figured out exactly what kind of trouble Ryuji was in first. 

Akira slipped into a pair of pants and headed downstairs.

………

_"C'mon, just a little more, god damn it."_

_"Hmmnmm…"_

As it turned out, the guy was conscious enough to stand. Walking was a different story. By placing most of his weight against Ryuji, he could manage an awkward hobble. At least he seemed to understand that he was being led somewhere. 

The dim light in Leblanc's window shone hazily through the night like a gracious spectre, signaling the end of Ryuji's journey. He felt as if the distance between Shibuya and Yongen had taken a century off of his lifespan and he was still living merely through force of will alone. He bumped the door with his foot.

It opened.

"What the hell…?" Akira wondered aloud. Ryuji wished his friend would learn how to be outraged or surprised one of these days. The response was so decidedly not-extreme that it pissed Ryuji off. How could Akira not understand the extent of this problem? 

"Bring him in, quick," Akira instructed before his question could be answered. At least he was being prompt.

After his first step inside the store, the man suddenly dropped all of his weight onto Ryuji's shoulder, which proved too sudden a change for the boy's balance. Were Akira not there to catch him, the stranger's forehead would have likely gained a new barstool-shaped dent.

 _"Fuck,"_ Akira hissed, and it was the first time Ryuji'd ever heard him say _that._ Maybe he did have emotions, after all. "Get his left side."

Without a word, the boys managed to drag the unconscious man across the floor to the bottom of the stairs. Akira stopped.

"Ryuji, this guy's bleeding a lot."

"You think I don't know that shit? Set im' down, you got towels?"

In a panicked huff, Akira let his portion of the weight down delicately to the floor and rushed to a cabinet. When he returned, he handed a small dishrag to Ryuji.

"Cover that cut, at least."

Looking down, there was a ragged slit in the side of the man's shirt under his chest, through which yawned a tauntingly vibrant red gash. Ryuji gritted his teeth and pressed the rag to the wound.

Akira returned, preparing to lift the stranger once more. He glanced at Ryuji, and although he seemed panicked, his face was still annoyingly calm.

"Okay, we're gonna do this step by step. Try to keep that rag on him," Akira instructed. "On 'go'. Ready? One, two, three-"

Ryuji fought against the ground, and the giant man on his shoulder started to rise. As simply as that, they had made it up one step. Cautiously, Ryuji glanced at the guy's face. His head hung limp, his jaw ever so slightly agog. As much as it sucked to see, he still seemed like he was breathing. 

"Ryuji. C'mon."

Did Leblanc grow an extra flight of stairs…?

With much effort, they hoisted the guy into Akira's bed, on top of a towel Akira hastily tossed there.

"Take off his shirt," Akira commanded.

"What!?"

"Now's not the time to be insecure. He's _bleeding._ Do it."

The intent with which Akira left the room reminded Ryuji of how his partner moved in a Palace. That meant shit was serious. ...what was that about insecurity? Whatever, he should probably do what Akira said before he got back.

Ryuji grabbed the bottom hem of the guy's t-shirt - plain black, interestingly enough - and pulled up. 

Wow. Apparently this guy didn't just like _facial_ piercings. For whatever reason, he asymmetrically wore a ring through one nipple and a bar through the other. Wouldn't that hurt…? They almost distracted him from two other strange things: the guy's physique, and his other scars. Yes, there were a handful of scars tracing lines across his chest and abdomen, as old as the ones on his face but more severe. Maybe he _was_ a yakuza. Maybe he got in fights all day, given his pronounced abs. Ryuji was the definition of athletic, and even he unfortunately could not seem to build up a six-pack like this guy had.

Thankfully, the man's arms were limp enough that pulling the sleeves off was only marginally awkward and uncomfortable. And anyway… _look_ at him. He looked like he _lived_ in the gym.

Akira sat a bucket down on the bed, jolting Ryuji back into the reality of the situation. Without a word, he sponged lightly at the wound with a damp cloth, which he then placed back into the bucket. Slowly but surely, red continued to seep from the gash.

"Lift him up by the shoulders."

Ryuji moved and did so, watching as Akira wrapped some kind of bandage tightly around the man's upper body, covering the wound and finally stopping the flow.

"You're really good at that shit," Ryuji marvelled. "Where'd you learn wound care stuff?"

"I'm just doing what they do in the movies…"

The tone of Akira's voice made it clear that this was not one of his usual snappy quips, but the truth. Shamefully, Ryuji felt a modicum of schadenfreude at his friend's embarrassment. 

To a second, much less serious wound on the man's arm, Akira applied a small adhesive bandage from a first-aid kit that Ryuji had only just noticed he'd brought up. Satisfied, he gathered the bucket, kit, and soiled towels and headed downstairs again.

Sighing, Ryuji moved back over to the edge of the bed and collapsed, dropping his butt onto the mattress and letting his head fall into his hands. All of a sudden, it seemed like the past half hour had happened in five seconds. The shock made him feel sick, like walking directly out of a sauna into frigid winter weather. Deep breaths. C'mon, you'll figure this out, just don't effin' panic.

Not that it helped him cope at all, but Ryuji finally recognized the black ball of fur on the table across the room as Morgana. That cat could sleep through an effin' fireworks show, he thought. 

"Who _is_ that?" a still-exasperated Akira asked, having returned and taken his own seat on his sofa.

Ryuji looked at the guy's face again, as if somehow he'd figure it out from a visual cue.

"Dunno. I heard some shit go down in an alley - real bad shit - and that's where he was."

"In downtown _Shibuya?"_

"Don't get mad, but…"

"Nevermind," Akira decided, massaging his temples. "He's not a criminal, is he?"

"Dude, I don't know!" Ryuji bursted. Akira shot him a much-meaner-than-usual look - the type of look that said, 'I'm not being funny, you need to quiet the fuck down'. Ryuji tensed up at the sight. "Shit. Sorry… I don't know, man. I just- I couldn't let him… die? I didn't know if he _was_ gonna die! All I know is what I heard, something about 'batman' and a 'little brat'..."

Akira sunk further into his couch.

"I know what I heard, okay?" Ryuji affirmed. 

"Man… nevermind the whole thing," Akira yawned. "You don't have to justify this, I think it was pretty undeniably a good thing to do."

Hearing that from someone he looked up to as much as he did sent some warmth running through Ryuji's heart, which was still mostly cold with fear.

"I _am_ pissed at you for risking your life like that…" Akira stipulated, "but it's too late for me to kick your ass. Can you ditch a day of school? I don't want this guy waking up alone in Sojiro's shop, and I'm kind of on a tight leash…"

As much as Ryuji was aware of the consequences of skipping school - and it had been a long time since he last cared - he would rather keep the stranger company. Besides what Akira had said, Ryuji felt somewhat of a responsibility for the guy, and how could he not?

"Sure. No problem. I'll keep him company."

………

Ryuji wondered if there would ever be a time in his life where he didn't feel like he owed a great debt to Akira. As if accommodating a stranger wasn't enough, he brought food and water upstairs before Sojiro's arrival - enough for Ryuji and the other guy. What could Ryuji even do to repay him? Sure, friends were friends, but this was a step past some kind of extra boundary, surely. 

The bell on the door had rung once or twice, signaling the entry and exit of whoever Leblanc's morning customers were. Ryuji plugged his dying phone into Akira's charger, but he did not intend to use it for much of anything. Couldn't. He was too preoccupied. 

What was going to happen when the guy woke up? Who was he? Was he in a coma or something? He _looked_ like he was just sleeping normally at this point, and thank god for that. 

He'd pulled a blanket over the guy, but couldn't help but take a few extra peeks - sometimes at his face, sometimes at his body. What kind of guy wanted to look like this and _didn't_ belong to a gang, right? Did a life of organized crime leave you enough time to get cut like a diamond? What the eff was this guy's goddamn _story?_

The last time Ryuji checked, it was almost nine in the morning. He stood over the mysterious stranger, shameless in his fascination. What a crazy thing, to get slashed up like that. Ryuji didn't know much about knife fights, but he was smart enough to know to run the second he saw steel. It hurt enough getting scraped accidentally… 

He reached for the man's smaller bandage, tracing the length of it softly. He didn't really have a reason to do so - he was thinking about the cut, and then it just happened. Without anyone around to tell him that shit was weird, he had no reason to stop. Poor guy. Ryuji wished he could have done more. He wished that their healing magic worked in the real world, and that he could learn a skill like that instead of just punching and shocking everything all the time.

His hand slipped downward, his palm sliding against the hardness of the man's bicep. Again, Ryuji thought nothing of his own instincts. Why worry? He was just comforti-

_"Hnnn-ahh-"_

Suddenly, Ryuji felt a great deal of shame. His hand snapped back to his side. The guy's eyes fluttered open with another groan.

For a moment, he stared up at Ryuji. Tired bewilderment radiated from his eyes.

 _"What… where am I?"_ he croaked.

"U-uhm, hi," Ryuji stammered. Apparently, the guy was too out of it to have noticed what Ryuji had been doing mere seconds earlier, and thank god for that. 

"What happened to me?"

The guy's fingers splayed across his face, massaging his forehead. He must have been massaging pretty hard, because his skin was blanching under the pressure.

"I, uh, found you in an alley," Ryuji nervously explained. "Are you okay?"

 _"Fuck…"_ the guy hissed, pawing at his bandage.

Well, this wasn't much of a conversation. Ryuji didn't blame the guy for not engaging entirely, but he wanted to know what was up.

"N-name's Ryuji. How about you?"

For a moment, the only response he got was a stare - it wasn't quite a scowl, but was unquestionably tinted with frustration.

"Kanji," the guy settled on. "I'm Kanji. Why was I in an alley? Who did this to me?"

It was strange to hear such desperation in the voice of someone who looked like he should be on top of shit. Ryuji would have expected a little more anger, at least at first. Either way, he wasn't entirely sure how to respond. The truth was very underwhelming. 

"Well," he began, scratching his head, "I was walkin' down the street when I heard some guy gettin' the shit kicked out of'im. I hid, a'course, and when the coast was clear, I found you lyin' there."

Kanji's brow crumpled up. Awkward silence wafted into the room as he stared intensely at Ryuji, his jaw ever so slightly hinged in disbelief. 

Finally:

"Shit," he settled on, letting his head fall back onto his pillow.

"W-what?"

"I don't remember it."

"Oh. You were kind of conscious on the way back home."

"Jeez, that's scary," Kanji lamented, rubbing his forehead some more. "I ain't never been jacked up like _this."_

"You're tellin' me. I thought you up'n friggin' _died_ one time on the train, but you just dozed off, I guess."

"Mm. Sorry for puttin' you through that. I guess I ain't thanked you yet for-" 

For but a millisecond, his eyes widened in revelation. 

"Wait, you lugged my ass on n' off the goddamn _train?"_

Reflexively, Ryuji stepped back. Come to think of it, he hadn't even considered the dangers of having done that. In his experience, most people didn't tend to involve themselves in other people's problems - especially on the train - but if he'd ran into a cop, that would surely have been a whole nother can of worms.

"Almost missed the last one, too. I-I guess people musta thought you were just drunk, or something," he mumbled, finally stepping the rest of the way away from the bed and taking a seat on Akira's sofa. 

"Y'know, I don't wanna talk shit, just cause you put a lotta effort into helpin' me out, but… wouldn't it'a just been easier callin' an ambulance?"

"O-oh, well, um…" Ryuji stuttered. Once more, the anger that Ryuji would have expected to see in Kanji's face was absent, and in its place was a fair amount of honest bewilderment. "I didn't know, um- and, don't get mad, cause I don't mean anything bad by this, but-"

"C'mon, I can take it. Spit it out, kid."

"Ithoughtyoumightbeayakuza-" Ryuji sputtered in one panicked breath, clenching his fists as if to brace for an impending beating. 

There was no such beating. In fact, Kanji chuckled heartily. 

"Nope. Some things never change, huh?" he drawled, grinning sardonically at Ryuji.

"W-what? I- uh, I guess?"

"Nah, it's just that I used to get that a lot. It's cool."

Kanji pressed lightly against the wound on his side again and grunted quietly to himself, showing no sign of picking up the conversation again. His admission begged the question:

"So, um, you weren't gettin' beat up over some kinda gang thing, then?"

"I sure hope not. Unless I joined a gang last night, and that ain't like me," Kanji asserted, shifting his legs with a groan. "By the way, this your house?"

"Uhm… about that. We're in the attic of a coffee shop."

"Mm. Thought I smelled coffee. Glad my nose still works."

As if to test that hypothesis, he brought his fingers gently to the tip of his nose.

_"Ow-"_

"Anyway-" Ryuji interjected, "the owner kinda maybe might… not know you or me are here."

_"Wh-"_

"M-my buddy lives here, he's at school. After that, he's gonna distract the owner so you can get outta here."

Kanji stared at Ryuji like he'd grown a second head.

"You brought me to a coffee shop that ain't yours and then skipped school all for a stranger?"

"I, uh… yeah."

"Heh. You remind me of me when I was your age."

"Yeah?"

"I used to do stupid shit to help people all the time. Not to trash you, cause it seems like you saved my life, but you didn't need to put your ass on the line for a guy like me." 

"I couldn't just…" Ryuji began. 'Let you die' was what was supposed to come next, but he choked at the intensity of the idea, a flood of memories rushing back all at once: disjointed images, the sound of panicked breath, the smell of copper and wet bricks…

"Hey, I'm just bustin' your balls, li'l bro."

Ryuji's traumatic reverie receded instantly. 

"Li'l… bro?"

"Yeah, uh," Kanji mumbled, seemingly more off guard than when he first woke up, "I guess, just cause of the hair and, like, the way you talk, and cause you're shorter'n me, so…"

"Yeeah…" Ryuji reluctantly agreed. "Are you cool with this, though? Bein' stuck here, I mean."

"You think they'd let me out of a _hospital_ right away?" Kanji smirked.

"True. It don't hurt too bad, does it?"

Kanji brushed gingerly against his wound again. "It's…"

"Shitty?" Ryuji finished.

"You got a way with words, kid," Kanji drawled, reaching up to undo his impromptu bandage.

...shamefully, Ryuji found his eyes drifting towards Kanji's biceps. For the average person, they wouldn't stand out so much while doing such a mundane task. Hell, he wasn't even exerting any _force,_ he was just _moving_ them. Sure, Ryuji was lean - almost as lean as Yusuke, who took the phrase 'starving artist' far too literally - but, _shit…_

And… should he really by eyeing up _this_ guy, of all people? How _old_ was he? 

The bandage was off, and Kanji craned his neck down at the side of his body to assess the damage.

"Coulda been worse, I guess," he sighed.

Ryuji wondered whether Kanji would be so nonchalant if he'd seen the amount of blood spilling out of him. Considering his other scars, maybe he _would_ have been. That wasn't something you could just _ask_ about, though. What if he was… depressed? And made the rest of them himself?

The idea made Ryuji a sickly sort of sad. What else could explain it? He definitely couldn't ask about it, then. No way.

They didn't even look that bad - pale, glossy lines cutting across the soft shadows of Kanji's slim but ferociously muscular form… and _now_ Ryuji was ashamed at how he couldn't seem to find it in him to _dislike_ the scars. They really only added to the guy's dangerous front, on top of the piercings, of course, and _those_ only made Ryuji wonder if they would feel cold against his tongue...

"Can't help but notice you got some chow over there," Kanji said, sending Ryuji's train of thought screeching to a halt. Even though Ryuji knew exactly what that meant, he followed Kanji's gaze to the plates of curry sitting on Akira's desk. 

"Oh, yeah. You hungry?" he replied, retrieving the plates before he even got his answer. 

"Starving, yeah."

"It's kinda cold…"

"S'alright."

With a drawn out but not overstated groan, Kanji pulled himself upright, letting his blanket slide back down his bare chest. As soon as he had his plate, he began rapidly shoveling curry rice into his mouth. While he was normally just as zealous about food and the consumption thereof, Ryuji probably wouldn't go whole-hog speed-eater mode in front of a stranger. He took a more measured bite from his own plate, returning to his seat on the couch. 

"So, uhm…" he blurted out, desperate to keep the conversation alive. "You work out a lot, or what? Cause I try to stay fit, but I think you got me beat."

"Mnh, yeawh," Kanji mumbled around his food, "shometimesh."

"S-sometimes?"

Embarrassingly, it seemed that Ryuji was unable to hide his disbelief, a saucy clump of rice toppling off of his chopsticks and back onto his plate. 

"Mhmm," Kanji shrugged.

"Well, you're effin' ripped, anyway. I'm tryna get there, but, y'know…"

Kanji didn't answer. Did Ryuji have a right to be a little pissed off? He didn't feel truly entitled to anything, but he saved the guy's life, for eff's sake; the least he could do was make a little small talk.

Kanji took in a big gulp of water, sighed, and then stared hard at the far corner of the room, abruptly halting the transmission of curry into his mouth. Without a hint of shame, Ryuji stared at him. What the _hell_ was with him? Who just _freezes_ like that out of nowhere? Ryuji bet that Kanji wouldn't even notice him staring like a jackass. Plus, it meant he got to take a good look at the guy's pecs, so there was that, too.

 _"Shit…"_ Kanji finally whispered. 

"You… alright?"

"I remember what happened now."

………

It was good catching up with Yu. Maybe one or two years wasn't that long, but any amount of extended time away from his old senpai felt wrong. Hell, even Yosuke and Chie were able to show up, but he still ran into them occasionally anyway. He would have really liked to have seen Naoto…

But he remembered all of that stuff. What Kanji couldn't figure out was what came between that and waking up in a coffee shop with a doofy blonde kid ogling him like a pin-up.

'Some things never change,' 'you remind me of me when I was your age…'

Kanji had always liked night walks. They helped him cool off and set things straight in the sense-depriving quiet darkness. Even in a relatively peaceful little town like Inaba, though, being alone at night could lead to trouble. Of course, Kanji Tatsumi was far too magnanimous amongst the few troublemakers who lived in or passed through his town for that to mean much. Anyone he stared down had to fight back equally against fear, because they knew what he could do to people like them.

The city, as he was constantly finding out, would not budge to accommodate his own idiosyncrasies. Night walks were fine, but only in places where it was bright and loud anyway. If you wanted someplace quiet, that meant taking a train, which don't run _that_ late… 

So, Kanji found himself wandering. He couldn't get over being _in_ the city. It was like the shops in downtown Inaba had learned to asexually reproduce, blooming in fractals of brick, glass, and neon. Even the less active areas were tightly packed with _stuff,_ and maybe it wasn't very extravagant _stuff,_ but if you were to turn any corner, you'd always find something there. 

On and on he trudged away from the bustle and towards someplace that hopefully smelled like fresh air instead of fried food or a car's exhaust. 

Then he heard it:

"C'mon, I told you I don't _have_ any more money!"

"That's fine. You can just work for us some more, huh? That sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me."

It was a handful of voices echoing from a nearby alleyway, one significantly younger-sounding than the rest.

"I don't wanna _do_ that anymore! It's… it's _illegal!_ I quit, and I'm not givin' you guys any more money, so just let me go, damn it!"

Mm. Kanji got the picture nice and quick. Shaking down kids for money… maybe the city was all big and fancy, but the crime was just as pathetic as Inaba's. It had been a while since Kanji had so much as thrown a punch, but his undefeated record was reason enough to believe he could take on some big-city street goons. It's not like they'd be armed, or anything. 

"Hey!" Kanji shouted down the alley, theatrically making his presence known. There were more than a few dark figures shrouded in shadow. "Let the kid go, or ya'll are gonna be shittin' teeth tomorrow."

………

"...and I guess you know how it went from there," sighed Kanji, his eyes drifting away in embarrassment. 

"Did you really say that thing about teeth?" Ryuji marvelled. 

"Y-yeah, I guess I got a dramatic streak in me, huh?" Kanji chuckled, looking a little less forlorn. "...why'd I just tell you all that?"

Ryuji shrugged. He supposed he didn't need all the explanation in order to like Kanji, but it knocked the guy up a couple of notches on his scale of respect, for sure. He put a lot on the line to save innocent people, but he'd never step in front of real-life _yakuza_ for any reason. Either it was incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, and given what Ryuji knew about his own intelligence, he figured Kanji probably wasn't dumber than him.

"Y'done?"

A nod. Ryuji gathered their used dishes and set them aside before sitting back down again.

As much as their introduction had been anything but smooth, Ryuji couldn't help but imagine his own prospects of scoring with Kanji. Sure, it was dumb. Sure, it was immature. But Ryuji did that with basically everyone he was attracted to to an almost compulsive degree. For instance,

Ann: 75%, if she would just admit she was interested in sex, too.

Akira: 100%, if he were gay, and damn him for not being so. 

Yusuke: 50%, would probably casually accept an invitation to sex, which would be too weird to enjoy.

Makoto: 5%, because Ryuji wasn't a quitter. 

What could he say? He was a teenage boy, damn it. They're _supposed_ to do shit like that. 

"I like your piercings," Ryuji said with but a sliver of his usual determination. "They're, um, cool…"

"Yeah?" Kanji chuckled. "Thanks, kid. I thought about takin' em out, seein' as more often than not they just scare people away, but I like em', so they're stayin'."

"Did those ones hurt?" Ryuji asked, pointing at Kanji's chest. 

"No more'n the others. Why, you like _these_ ones?"

While he often lacked the confidence for up-front flirting, his tongue just as often raced ahead of his mind and did it anyway.

"They're super sexy, bro."

Ryuji tensed at his own words as Kanji enjoyed a hearty chuckle. Why was it such a bad thing? He was gonna hit on the guy anyway. Truthfully, it was because…

"That was the _gayest_ shit I _ever_ said," Ryuji whined. 

"Nah, man. Speak your mind," Kanji instructed, having recovered from his laughter. "I like when guys have the balls to be themselves no matter what. Bonus points if that means they're callin' me sexy, a'course."

"Oh, you like guys, too?"

"What tipped you off, the nipple piercings?" Kanji snarked. 

"Well, I didn't wanna go all 'judge a book by its cover' n' shit, so…"

"No worries. If you're into piercings, you should look around for a reliable shop. They ain't expensive."

"M-maybe," Ryuji stumbled, "but they definitely wouldn't let me have em' at school…"

"Mm," Kanji agreed, stretching back out on the bed. _"Fuuuuckin' sore,"_ he groaned to himself. "Yer from around here, huh?"

Ryuji nodded.

"Well, I ain't, so I ain't exactly up on this whole Phantom Thieves thing. What's that all about?"

"Oh, uhm…" Ryuji paused for a second, meticulously walking himself through his next sentence. His instinct was to explain it all the way it happened, but that would be bad even if the guy didn't believe him. "They say they change hearts, make bad guys good and stuff. Y'know, like that teacher, the artist… and word on the street is they help people around the city with smaller stuff, too."

"Hm. All I know is they must be stirrin' up all kindsa shit for me to know about it. I'm not a big TV kinda guy these days," Kanji explained. "People think they're magic, or what?"

Again, Ryuji paused. Having to think through shit before you said it was _tiring…_ and boring. 

"Nobody knows. It's… gotta be something like that, I guess."

Kanji chuckled a wistful sort of chuckle. "Must be nice havin' that kinda power."

"Oh, it rules! I-"

Ryuji froze. He forgot to think.

Kanji raised an eyebrow. 

_Eff. Eff. Shit. God damn it. 'It rules?' Idiot! Idiot! Um,_

"Bein' a fan rules, is what I'm sayin'. Y'know? And, l-like, that would be cool as shit if I could do that stuff too," Ryuji fumbled. 

"Sure would," Kanji sighed back, rolling his eyes playfully. He twisted slightly in the bed, shoving the heel of his palm against the side of his stomach with a hiss.

"You, uh…" Ryuji attempted, distracted by the motion of Kanji's chest as he rolled his palm back and forth. "If you're sore, I can take care a' that. Dealt with sore legs all the time on the track team. Doubt your tummy's much different."

"Tummy?"

"Y'know, your belly."

What was this guy confused about? What was so weird about saying that? If you don't know what 'tummy' means, _you're_ the weirdo. 

With a sly grin, Kanji tilted his head to face Ryuji. "You gotta work on your poker face, kid."

"W-whaddaya mean?" Ryuji deflected unconvincingly. 

"If you're gonna do someth'n, do it," Kanji teased.

"Don't be an ass," Ryuji whined, despite the fact that he was rising to oblige Kanji's request. 

When Ryuji reached the bed, Kanji slipped his hand off of his side. The spot it had been resting on was just beginning to turn a subtle reddish-purple.

"Uhm," Ryuji said flatly, "that's a _bruise,_ dude."

Kanji peered down at his own body again. 

"Mm. Guess so. Maybe don't massage that."

"Are your legs… sore? Maybe?"

"A little stiff from layin' around, s'pose. Nothin' excruciating."

Ryuji nervously hitched his thumbs into his pockets. It was so much scarier making advances when it seemed like you would have to _follow up_ on them. Whenever he made a pass at Ann, it was almost like a mutually understood game with no real end goal - an aspect of their shamelessly childish not-really-love-not-really-hate relationship. This guy, though… who knows? Ryuji was a pretty open guy, and desperate for some action, but if he straight up asked to suck the guy's dick, would he just whip it out? Come to think of it, despite his interest in other guys (and the campy-but-definitely-straight Akira was to blame for a lot of recent frustration in that field), he'd never been in an opportunity to fool around with one. Hell, even he kept up appearances when _that_ came into question. Again, though, Ryuji was much too impatient to actually parse any of these feelings before he said anything. 

"Anything else I could do, then? Y'know, to help you feel better?"

Kanji rolled his eyes again.

"C'mon, why don'cha say what you mean?"

"W-what?" Ryuji asked, though he knew it would accomplish nothing. 

"Nut up. You were straight up hittin' on me a second ago. What happened to your confidence, huh?"

"O-oh, well. I mean…"

There was a pause as Ryuji attempted to gather his thoughts. He watched Kanji's face slowly change in the awkward interim, all the while wondering if he had the guts to tell the guy that his little slip-up was just that - a slip-up - and that whatever came out of his mouth was mostly instinctual unless someone lobbed him a real meaty question or accusation. Of course he would never hit on a guy - or anyone, but especially a guy - on _purpose._ He was pretty much still on the level of a little boy who pulls on the hair of the girl he likes for lack of any real avenue of expression, without either the words or emotional capacity to admit that someone makes him feel like he _isn't_ the only thing in the world that matters. Unfortunately, Ryuji's brain didn't have a quick answer to any aspect of what Kanji had said, so he remained painfully silent. 

"Hey, kid, don't take this shit so serious," Kanji finally interjected. "Sorry if I was leadin' you on or whatever, but we ain't gonna do nothin' like that. I'm 20. Ain't like I'm an old man or nothin', but I shouldn't be messin' around with a kid like you. 'Specially since we're strangers n' all. ...I just can't stand all that goddamn hemmin' and hawin'."

All Ryuji could do was murmur a pathetic little noise. For as much as he looked like a punk, this guy was _way_ better at thinking shit through than Ryuji. How was that possible?

"It's not illegal or nothin'..." was Ryuji's best shot.

"That don't make it right."

"I- I dunno. It's… I don't get a lotta chances like this, and you're, like, _really_ effin' hot, so-"

"Mm. I know how you feel, sorta. Believe it or not, I ain't ever actually been with a man myself."

"R-really?" Ryuji marvelled unabashedly. "I don't wanna be nosey, but why?"

"Where I live, it's a little harder for folks who're different like you n' me. I had relationships, sure, but only one that really mattered, and that was with a girl."

"W-what happened?"

"I dunno. I dunno if I fucked up or if she just cares more about her job, but…"

Kanji allowed the pain to slip from his face as he looked back at an entranced Ryuji.

"Eh, you don't gotta hear about that," he decided. "You don't know me, so I ain't givin' you no lecture or my life story or whatever, but I see a lotta me in you… All you gotta know is to be who you wanna be, and don't take shit from anyone who's got a problem with that. Sounds cliche, but it's important. A buddy a' mine helped me understand that, and I ain't never felt bad or weird about that side a' myself since. I guess what I'm sayin' is, if you ain't figured yourself out yet, you don't gotta experiment with strangers you found bleedin' out in alleys."

 _"Who I wanna be…?"_ Ryuji whispered to himself. Who was that, really? Sure, he could probably catalog the things he believed and the things he fought for if he sat down and thought about it, but he lived almost entirely on a case-by-case basis. _Obviously_ Kamoshida was a unique kind of evil, and Ryuji fought hopelessly against him even before the Phantom Thieves formed, but it's not like he had to think hard about _why_ \- the fucker was evil. Much in the same way, when it came to attraction, he went with the flow. Ann was a goddess by his standards, and despite her currently contentious standing with their meager team, Makoto wasn't bad herself. Both Akira and Yusuke were _textbook_ prettyboys - the kind that even _straight_ dudes had to admit were attractive. This was simply how Ryuji operated. See bad thing, want to punch. See hot thing, want to fuck. He wasn't out of the closet - how could he be, and why bother? It wasn't like he had anyone to do gay shit with. ...until now. Was the guy right? Would he be better off wrestling with himself before jumping into something like this, no matter how impulsive and meaningless it truly was in the moment?

You would be a fool to think Ryuji actually thought through his feelings so thoroughly when there was a half-naked hunk in front of him.

"I- I think I get it… but… c-can I at least, like... suck you off or somethin'?"

 _"No."_ Kanji asserted. "D'you even listen to a word I said?"

"I did, but-"

"Sorry. I shouldn't'a got your hopes up like that, _or_ tried to talk it through. I get it. You're, what, 16?"

"17."

"You're 17 and horny as hell, and throwin' bein' gay on that pile just amps the fuckin' anxiety through the roof. I been there. _I get it._ Gettin' my pants off might seem more important than _breathin'_ to you right now, but you'll find someone."

"H-have you?"

"What?"

"You said you ain't never been with another guy, and that there was some girl-"

"Shut up," Kanji snapped. "We're done talkin' about it."

Even bedridden and concussed, Ryuji wouldn't dare incite Kanji's ire. The last thing he needed was for Akira to have to explain _two_ concussions to the doctor. 

What followed was a long, somewhat awkward silence. Kanji stared at the ceiling, while Ryuji surfed the web on his phone from the sofa, still taking little - well, sometimes not so little - peeks at his new acquaintance, whose battered body still lay mostly uncovered. Minutes ticked away, though the usual slew of Twitter and Instagram posts was not nearly distracting enough to make Ryuji forget about the other person in the room. At least once, Kanji caught Ryuji's wandering gaze. He scowled, but did not speak up to explain why _he_ was looking at _Ryuji…_

Perhaps giving in to boredom, Kanji, too, pulled out his phone. 

"Hey, um, since you got that out," Ryuji said, "you maybe wanna trade numbers or chat IDs or whatever?"

"Hm?" Kanji grunted, looking up from his screen.

"Y'know, I could show you around if you're stayin' in the city for a while. O-or maybe we could just chat, or something."

"...you promise not to get your hopes up about shit that ain't gonna happen?"

"I promise! Cross my heart!"

………

Kanji flopped back onto the bed of his tiny hotel room. His late lunch had consisted of a mysterious and somewhat unpleasant shrink-wrapped sandwich, and he was thankful that despite having the consciousness beat out of him, his wallet remained safely tucked away in his back pocket. 

No new texts. It wasn't surprising; as far as his friends knew, he simply returned safely to his hotel. He stared at his contacts.

He'd been thinking a lot…

It had been a while since he'd last had any romantic prospects. Not that it mattered - Kanji didn't need that kind of complication anymore. No, he was better suited to quietly cutting and sewing and knitting away in his shop, shouldering more and more of the responsibilities that once belonged to his mother. It was a simple way to live, and the smiles of his customers were of much more value to him than the meager profits he reaped at work. He didn't need love.

Yu, though… Yu seemed to bring out the best and worst in Kanji. Being around him was like being a kid again - full of piss and vinegar and always ready for a scrap. What he didn't have the balls to tell that kid - let alone admit to himself - was that maybe he didn't just like wandering at night for the darkness and cool air. Maybe he really was looking for a fight. He certainly did that kind of shit five short years earlier. The last thing he wanted was to dredge up _anything_ from his past, so seeing Yu was always a double-edged sword. 

He was pissed off without the energy to be pissed off. How long had it been since he was this anxious? He made peace with who he was years ago and never looked back, so why was so much of that shit coming back up like bile in his throat?

...he'd also come to terms with the fact that _she_ was gone. He never was quite himself around Naoto. Whether it was her frightening intellect or her androgynous beauty or some other equally mysterious factor, she had such agency over him that his affection for her was obvious to anyone who saw them together. Obviously, Naoto didn't complain. Perhaps she thought it pointless to try and change his behaviour, or maybe she was playing along out of pity. He sure as hell couldn't tell, even talking to her face-to-face.

It shouldn't be much of a surprise, then, that their awkward, ego-crushing attempts at sex were what seemed to signal the end of whatever it was that their relationship consisted of. She was beautiful, yes, but Kanji's eye was initially caught by a Naoto he believed to be male. No matter how much he loved her, he could not easily coax his body into cooperating with his will. Even _if_ his performance were anything special, Naoto very clearly had trouble with physical affection. Nights began to end with 'I'm sorry's rather than 'I love you's, and evidently the facade was too much to keep up for Naoto. She'd taken a break from the excitement of detective work to stay with him and the rest of the team when they were around, but when a particularly lucrative job offer came in…

Kanji snapped back to reality, realizing he was still staring at her name.

This was all that kid's fault. God knows he wanted to do it. God knows he would have begged on his knees for so much as a _hug_ if it meant feeling wanted again. No matter what Ryuji said, though, Kanji knew it was superficial. If that kind of attraction wasn't superficial, he would be with Naoto right now.

Naoto...

He pressed her name...

…

...and a canned voicemail message began to play, followed by a beep.

"H-hey," he stuttered, not the slightest bit sure about what he wanted to say. "Been a while, huh? I, uh, just saw Yu and the others. Made me think of you. Just… wanted to say hi. You better be out there kickin' ass and takin' names, y'know… solvin', uh… crimes. Anyway, if you get this, call me back, huh? We can catch up on stuff… um, y'know, like how I'm pretty much full time at the shop now. Remember that kid that used to come in all the time with his backpack on and- ...well, I guess we can talk about that i- er, when we talk. So, um… yeah, I hope you're doin' good wherever you are now. Maybe we could see each other. I-I mean, just to catch up… I don't- um… Bye, Naoto."

Kanji threw his phone at the door, and it clattered to the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Ryuji says a bad word and i continue to punish everyone for no reason
> 
> is it melodrama? is it pure cheese? that's for you to decide, dear reader. even with an outline, i don't know what the fuck i'm doing. also, listen to that mr bungle song. start to finish, assholes, or else it doesn't count.

"So, no ass-kickings from Ushimaru, I take it?"

Ryuji nodded 'no', swallowing a gulp of vaguely fruit flavored soda. Akira was slumped comfortably back in his bench, with one long leg tucked over the other. 

"Well, I don't have the energy to do it myself, so I guess you're off the hook," Akira lamented. "Did he do the chalk thing, at least?"

"Nah, but I know what you're talking about, trust me. Shit stings. That old bag a' dicks don't got the energy to start shit if it means he's gotta move away from his desk."

"Word. You get home safe yesterday?"

"Yeah. Said I stayed at your place, which ain't a lie, really. Ma wasn't thrilled, but I think she's just happy I got friends again."

"Mm. We oughta bake that woman a cake or something."

"Shit, I would if I knew how."

Two first-years, each particularly grave-looking in their own right, shuffled along the path next to the vending machines, whispering frantically to each other and shooting glances at anyone and anything in their line of sight. Their presence softly suffocated whatever momentum Ryuji and Akira had built up.

"Makoto or no, we gotta nab this mob guy," Akira finally sighed, watching the couple slink off into the distance.

"Shit's gettin' pretty bad…" Ryuji agreed. "Hey, we got our plan, though. We ain't doin' thief shit right now - I just wanna chill with you."

"I'm charmed," Akira sneered playfully. "Arcade?"

"Nah, I got a lil' surprise. Somethin' new. Gonna need your moral support, cap'n."

"Almighty God, please come to my aid in this trying time," Akira called out to the heavens. "Ryuji Sakamoto has had an  _ idea." _

"You're a  _ dick." _

"And  _ you  _ almost got yourself killed for no reason the other night."

"Dude…"

"I told you I was gonna chew you out for that. How else could I let you know I care about your well-being than constantly and harshly shaming you?"

"I dunno, maybe you could just be...  _ sincere." _

"Okay," Akira chuckled, rising from his seat and spreading his arms. "How about a hug?"

Something in Ryuji's brain jumped a mile ahead of where his actual thought process was. A word began to move his lips - or perhaps a phrase - but in a last ditch effort, he muddled the sound into a guttural sort of  _ 'wuhhh-'  _ that lasted only a split second. With that buffer, he realized his mistake. Of course, he wanted to accept the offer, despite the fact that he  _ did _ actually understand that Akira was messing with him. 

"No way, asshole," was what his little noise parlayed into. 

………

_ "More  _ people? Man, the train can effin' suck my nuts sometimes."

"Maybe you'd feel a little more comfortable if you weren't yelling stuff like that all the time."

As people squeezed inside the crowded car, Ryuji found himself pressed chest-to-chest with Akira. At his outburst, a man behind Akira had briefly flicked his gaze from his phone to glare at Ryuji for but a brief moment. 

"I ain't yellin'," he said softly and more-or-less directly into Akira's ear. "And it ain't about gettin' the stink-eye, neither. It's  _ this shit."  _ He gestured with his eyes down at their squished-together bodies.

"Just how insecure are you, bud?"

"I ain't…" ...and that was all that would come out. After all, even someone as forceful as Ryuji could not admit:  _ really it's because I'm afraid of poppin' a stiffy from rubbin' up against you, especially when you got that body a' yours that's thin but still pretty manly and effin' sexy in all the right ways…  _ The train of thought chugged on effortlessly, regardless of its confinement within his head. He began to wonder why he'd become so enamored with Kanji when he could have just stuck with Akira. Stuck with Akira? It's not like they were in a relationship… but, still. It felt like he had forgotten something in the interim. Surely he hadn't forgotten how much he liked Akira, but then, what was he basing that on in the first place?

_ "Uh oh, groper!"  _ Akira whispered, reaching around to honk Ryuji's left buttcheek.

Ryuji let an embarrassing noise fly, something between a cry of surprise and a threatening grunt. He glared eye-to-eye at Akira, face flaming red.  _ "Not. Funny." _

"Right. And you're not insecure. Loosen up, you look like you just got kicked in the nads."

Gritting his teeth, Ryuji focused his entire being on continuing to glare at Akira. Precisely the last thing he needed was his best friend's hand on his ass at that point in time. 

_ "A-any guy would be effin' uncomfortable with that!" _

"I wouldn't."

That mothereffer. That shit-eating grin...

………

"This is the place!"

Akira looked up, squinting at the storefront sign.  **"Fun Time Cool Piercing?"** he quoted in english.

"Sweet, huh? They get great reviews online. The inside's like a friggin'  _ hospital  _ apparently."

"Hopefully their needlework is better than their translation," Akira sighed. "But, what? Are you finally getting that prince albert you've always dreamed of?" 

"Um, I'm gettin' a lip ring. I don't know what that thing you said is."

"We definitely agreed not to draw attention to ourselves. I'm sure it would look good on you, but do you really need to stir up more trouble?"

It would… look good? He thinks it would look good? Even when he was trying to bring Ryuji down, he sometimes did the exact opposite. After all, it would take a much smarter guy than Akira to be able to predict when Ryuji's selective hearing kicked on.

"Chill, bro," Ryuji assured. "The hair's, like,  _ way  _ more in-your-face than a little metal ring, and that's against the rules, too."

"I guess there's nothing I can say, huh…?"

………

The procedure itself was fairly simple, just as Ryuji expected. He had chosen to learn about body piercing as a method of procrastination the previous night. Anything was better than homework. It was during that period when he had become determined as far as his plan for the future.

As promised, he was taken to the inside of a booth that was as sterile as any medical exam room he'd ever been in. The overweight punk-y dude with the chest-length hair and the needle in his hand seemed especially out of place in that environment. 

Despite his research, Ryuji couldn't help but feel a little adrenaline in the final moments before needle met skin. The piercer had helped somewhat with his calm voice  _ (gonna be a little pinch, m'kay? deep breath in…)  _

**_**!_ **

And that was it. By the time he processed the pain, the deft set of fingers on his lip had already assembled the jewelry and slipped away.

"Twice a day, m'kay? You should be good by… this date."

After handing over two small bottles - soap and mouthwash - the guy scribbled a month and day onto a little pamphlet with a fairly androgynous looking chick decked out from eyebrow to chin with modifications Ryuji hadn't ever seen before. 

"Sure thing. Thanks."

………

"Y'know, I really hate enabling the dumb stuff you do," Akira sighed, "but that definitely fits your look."

"Damn right it does," Ryuji boasted. Absently, he flicked at his new jewelry with his tongue.

"Aren't you supposed to be careful with that?" 

Ryuji's tongue froze. Yeah, the guy did say something about that. Even then, Ryuji hadn't been  _ consciously  _ messing with it… Shit, what did he sign up for? 

Akira slurped intently at a convenience store slushie, leaning back into the park bench they had taken refuge upon. "Anyway, aren't you gonna tell me what this is about?"

Even if he wanted to, Ryuji couldn't come up with an answer to that question. Sure,  _ some  _ part of him knew… "W-whaddaya mean?"

"C'mon," Akira urged. "I've  _ never  _ heard you say a single thing about piercings. That guy shows up, and now you're painting a target on your ass just for looks. What happened?"

"N-nothin', man. It's just like I said. We chatted a little, and that was it."

All it took was an incredulous glance from those grey eyes to pierce Ryuji's protective shroud of half-lies, but Akira took it one step further.

"Ryuji, seriously. We're bros. If you can't trust me…"

_ Shit…  _ What a bunch of bullshit. Of course, Akira was the only one he could admit any of this to, but what kind of questions would that raise? Ryuji didn't have any place hitting on a guy that old, let alone admitting to hitting on a guy  _ period,  _ and what of his feelings for Akira? He could keep them in check most of the time, but there was no way Akira would be comfortable knowing. That didn't have to come up, anyway, and why had he thought of it? He was after Kanji now.

An arm slung itself across Ryuji's back. It had happened many times before, and every time it had sent hopeful sparks rushing to his head. This time he felt nothing but familiar warmth. Terrible, loving, torturous warmth. 

"Is it really that serious?" Akira asked quietly.

"That guy, Kanji…" Ryuji managed. "I think I like him."

"Oh," Akira said simply, leaning back again. "Good luck, then. He seemed like a handful."

"Y- y- you-" Ryuji bumbled. "...what?"

"If you just got that to impress a guy, that's fine. I really didn't know what to expect, but I was worried you might have, like, been trying to join a gang or something."

All of the time… all of the effort spent worrying… all of the  _ anxiety… and he's just effin'  _ **_cool with it!? Just like that?_ **

"W-w-what the eff, man!?"

"What?" While playing dumb was an annoying trick Akira liked to play, he seemed legitimately taken off guard.

"I- ...I-"

Come on, Ryuji. Even saying the first thing that comes to mind was better than keeping  _ that _ in.

"...I just fuckin'  _ came out,  _ and  _ that's  _ all you got to say!?"

"You want me to be mad about it?" Akira snarked relentlessly. "I can act grossed out and call you a homo or whatever if that would make you feel more comfortable."

"Eat me. Eat shit directly outta my ass, you prick," Ryuji slung back. He sighed. "...but- ...thanks for bein' cool, though. Seriously."

"No worries, man."

It may have seemed like a strange way to end the thread of discussion, but Akira could always tell when Ryuji was being genuine. As much as they both liked to spar verbally, to keep poking fun at that point would just be awkward. Ryuji had just kind of spilled his guts, so the least he expected from his best friend was a little sympathy. 

"So, what?" Akira picked back up. "You gonna go after him?"

"Yeh, I guess. I made a pass at him the other day, but he seemed kinda worried about the age gap."

"I can see that. That and the fact that you'd known each other for all of an hour or two."

Ryuji clenched a fist. "Dammit, you're right. Who’d go that far with a stranger? How the eff didn't I think a' that?"

"'Go that far…?'" Akira quoted, nervously scratching the back of his head. "When you say you made a pass at him, you didn't straight-up ask to fuck, did you?"

A new round of blush shot to Ryuji's cheeks as he forced himself to look away, off into the distance. "It wasn't… l didn't go right out and say it right away."

"So… you did  _ eventually?" _

"It's effin' complicated, okay?"

"Well…" Akira sighed, "I tell you what: just ask him out like a normal person and see what happens. Thoughts?"

"Besides you basically sayin' I ain't normal… yeah, I guess that could work." A pause. "You think he'll like the lip ring?"

Akira tilted his head. "Bro, I don't know. You don't think it comes off as a little…?"

A little what? If it was bad, he'd tear the shit out of his face right then and there, good looks be damned. All he wanted was to make Kanji happy. He seemed like the kind of guy that needed the support.

"...pushy?" Akira finished.

_ "Shit,"  _ spat Ryuji, kicking away a clump of mulch.

"I mean, I don't even know the guy. Maybe he'll think it's cute. I'm just trying to be real with you."

"I know…"

Maybe he was right. Kanji had encouraged Ryuji to get a piercing, but would it really seem normal if he showed up with one after so little time? He'd already given an excuse as to why he couldn't do it. If he told a girl he liked baseball and she showed up the next day with a mitt and ballcap, he'd probably be a little put off…

Still, it wasn't like he didn't like the look of the ring. It looked tough - tougher than he really was, although he supposed that stereotype was slowly disappearing. 

More importantly, how long was Kanji staying in Shibuya? There surely wasn't much time to act. 

That wasn't the only thing on Ryuji's mind, though.

"You really ain't gonna… I dunno, be even a lil' surprised at this shit?"

"Regarding Kanji?"

"N-nah, man. You just seem real comfortable seein' as I just told you I was gay. Er, bi, but-"

"Eh," Akira interrupted.

"...eh?  _ Eh!?  _ Do you know how the effin' track guys would treat me if they knew that? You think they don't like me now, but,  _ man…" _

"I'm not them, last I checked. You really think I'd bust your ass over something like this?"

"Actually, kinda."

Uncharacteristic surprise flashed across Akira's face. It was frightening to see him caught off guard - whatever could do  _ that  _ was surely a threat.

"I-it ain't like I thought you were gonna fag-bash me or nothin'-" Ryuji sputtered.

_ "Don't  _ say that."

"-but you just got super serious all of a sudden, and-” A breath. “...man, you're right, I really shouldn't'a said it like that. Sorry. Me n’ the guys used to pick on each other for doin' shit we thought was 'gay,' so we used to say that a lot. Y'know, 'fag,' I mean."

"You didn't have to say it  _ again."  _

_ "Shit. _ S-sorry," Ryuji stuttered. Akira had a strange, wistful aura about him now, which was definitely weird. It's not like he should be offended - he was straight. Straight dudes don't care about that sort of thing. "I played along back then, a'course. I actually knew I was gay at the time, but I never really thought about that shit, even when they were pickin' on me for somethin'  _ I  _ did. It was all fun n' games or whatever."

"I'm not offended…" Akira said quietly, "but I don't like hearing you say it."

"Y-yeah, I mean, I dunno. ...now that it's off my chest, it does kinda feel gross callin' someone a-  _...y'know. _ I-I never said it to try and really hurt nobody."

"I know," Akira said, and how could he know? He'd only known Ryuji for a handful of months, and-

"I've been meaning to ask," Akira refocused, fixing his posture and putting a little more force behind his voice.

"Uhm, okay. Shoot."

"What is it about that guy? Kanji. You guys must have hit it off pretty good."

"Oh, um… yeah, I guess. I mean, I told you why he was all beat up. He's gotta be a good guy, like you and me. Why?"

"I think you should make sure of that before you do anything with him."

"He ain't gonna kidnap me or nothin', jeez," Ryuji scoffed. 

"Can you prove that? Is he someone you really want to be with?"

That was a stupid idea. There was no way a guy like that would do anything bad to Ryuji. It  _ was  _ true that Akira hadn't really met Kanji properly, but that didn't mean he could just label the guy based on his looks! That wasn't very Phantom Thief-y of him. ...although, he was a smart guy, and Ryuji couldn't think of another time he shit-talked anyone who didn't deserve it. 

Was he right?

"H-hey, um, I'm gettin' hungry," Ryuji diverted. "You wanna grab a bite before you head back?"

"No. I have food at home, but just- take care of yourself. ...don't do anything dangerous, okay?"

"I know."

"For me, man. For your best friend."

For some reason, the sentiment punched him hard in the stomach, wormed its way inside, and swam sickening circles around his gut. Duh, of course he knew Akira was his best friend, but… to hear him say it like that… 

"Y-yeah, bro. No worries."

……...

Daintily, Kanji submerged the first inch of a chicken tender in some kind of yellowish sauce. He held the thing in front of him, eyeing it cautiously before taking a bite.

"Hope it's everything you dreamed of, man," Yosuke chuckled. "I'd take Aiya over this any day, but I guess I can see the novelty."

(Yosuke had rightfully questioned Kanji's choice of restaurant. He insisted that it wasn't worth it to try cheap fast food joints just because there weren't many in Inaba - the only one of which Kanji had ever tried being the new-ish space-themed burger joint in the Junes food court. Kanji was not swayed.)

"Mm. S'alright."

"City still treating you well?" Yosuke asked.

The sneering face of a particular yakuza thug met Kanji's mind's eye, followed by that of a dopey, grinning blonde kid.

"...yeah, just fine," Kanji lied, taking a sip of soda.

"Any reason why you didn't want to wait until Yu was free?" Almost immediately, Yosuke inhaled sharply through his teeth. "Not like I don't wanna hang out with you one-on-one, it's just-"

"No, I get you," Kanji sighed. It was true, he never was truly comfortable with Yosuke. It boggled his mind as to how that guy could simultaneously be so down-to-earth and kind and still have said some of the things he did. He was never trying to hurt Kanji - of all people, Kanji was sure of that much - but there was something about the tone of his voice and the look in his eye that used to always dredge up painful memories. Just how sincere was Yosuke’s disdain? Every time it happened he wanted to scream out,  _ yeah, and so what if I do swing that way? Don't flatter yourself, I sure as hell ain't gonna try anything on your sorry ass… _ but he never had the strength. He had faced his shadow, only for a new one to seemingly appear behind him. He  _ knew  _ who he was, but the only one that seemed to understand that was Yu. How could he show his true face to anyone else? Not even Naoto knew who he really was. It was a whole lot easier to admit you like arts and crafts than to come out as gay in a place like Inaba.

"You okay, dude? You're awfully quiet over there," Yosuke threw out, trying to inject some levity into his voice.

"You hear from Naoto?"

It may have been fairly high on the list of reasons for meeting with Yosuke, but Kanji wasn't entirely happy with how that sentence limply fell out of his mouth without any real provocation. 

"N-no, not for a while. I thought, um…” Yosuke began, stumbling around the carefully chosen words. “I thought you guys… y'know, cut it off for good."

"We did."

"Hm. You aren't back on the market, are you, big guy? It's a little easier to find a girlfriend in a place like this. Or something a little more short-term, even, if you want."

_ Girlfriend.  _ It was like a slap in the face. All that time spent breaking Kanji's balls, and now he decides to say that shit? It didn't matter whether or not Yosuke really understood the situation and it  _ really _ didn't matter that he was trying to be sincere - he was pissing Kanji off. 

Although, it would be stupid to just fly off the handle…

"I called her the other night."

"Oh, yeah?"

"No luck."

"Are you trying to get back together with her?"

'Trying' wasn't so much the idea as was 'gathering the confidence to even consider giving it a shot again'. Kanji gritted his teeth, silent. 

"I don't wanna pry or anything, but is that a good idea?" Yosuke said quietly.

"I'm doin' it whether you help or not," Kanji shot back. "I just can't go to Yu on this one."

"Why not?"

"'Cause he's gonna tell me it's a bad idea."

"Oh…" Yosuke deflated, nervously running a finger along a ridge on the plastic lid of his drink. “...i-isn’t it, though?”

"Probably,” sneered Kanji, filtering the word through the gravel at the bottom of his throat. “But-”

But what? But he still wanted her? Was that childish? Of course it was, Kanji supposed, but-

But. But everything. It was the ‘but’s that he couldn’t rectify. He said he loved her...  _ but _ he couldn’t make her happy. He was fiercely attracted to her…  _ but _ she was a female. He tried to disassemble his heart for her to see…  _ but _ she could not help him find the words with which to do so. She said she loved him, too...  _ but _ he knew it wasn’t quite true.

But he didn’t care. He had long since demolished every possible excuse to chase after her. It wasn’t as if he was unaware of the horrible truth of their incompatibility. Even after memorizing and cataloguing every single reason why he and Naoto  _ shouldn’t  _ be together, some stupid, bullheaded part of him stayed latched to the idea that she was everything he needed. Was it quote-unquote young love? Was Kanji just that stubborn?

"Nevermind, man. Forget I said anything," Kanji ordered.

"You sure? I know I can't do the stuff Yu does for you, but if you wanna talk this out-"

"God damn it, don't pretend you like me so much. This ain't the fuckin' time."

...there went the prospect of keeping his cool. Yosuke's mouth curled at the edges into a panicked sort of half-smile, but he could not hide the confusion in his eyes, which darted unconvincingly in and out of contact with Kanji's. Perhaps it was petty to put a friend on the spot like that. Perhaps it was petty to knowingly make him so horrendously uncomfortable… 

"...what?"

"No. No, I ain't gonna just let you have this," Kanji snapped. The dam that had held back his temper was nothing but rubble. He wrenched his wallet from his pocket and slapped down a single banknote. "Call me if you ever figure out where you fucked up. Then we can talk."

As outside air purged the moist odor of fryer grease from Kanji's nostrils, he began to wonder if he wasn't a little cruel. Sure, Yosuke never showed any remorse for any of his behavior towards Kanji, but… was it so wrong? Kanji never spoke up about exactly what those words made him feel. Back then, he was still far too young to not just jump straight into berserk mode, which, he supposed, he wasn't immune to as an adult, either. 

How did he expect a visit like this to end, anyway? He and Yosuke could certainly bullshit and have some normal buddy-buddy fun, but there was no way things weren't going to go south the moment Naoto came up. Seeing as both he and her were their own people with their own varied relationships, each ex-member of their team likely had much different ideas of exactly how their split went down. Come to think of it, the only person who was really, genuinely close to the both of them was… Yu. Of course it would be the guy who was smart enough to urge Kanji away from Naoto.  _ Too smart for his own good, _ Kanji thought.

………

Clad in nothing but a pair of briefs, Kanji spread out on his bed. The television was blaring out some inane nonsense about toothpaste, or perhaps hygiene in general - Kanji wasn't listening. He would have preferred not to have the thing on at all were he comfortable enough to sit in silence with his own thoughts. He glanced at the glowing screen. An unreasonably attractive and yet somehow off-putting idol girl was throwing up double peace signs in front of a- the commercial ended, and now Kanji was being told to buy a protein snack bar. Ironically, it seemed that cable tv ads were just schizophrenic enough to keep Kanji sane.

***thud, thud, thud***

_ "One second!"  _ Kanji called out, scrambling to the floor to find something to cover his ass with. He fought his way into the first pair of jeans he could find, fastening the button but not the zipper. He didn't really know who was at the door, but he figured it must have been important if they were singling his place out. The landlord, maybe? 

He finished jostling the waistband of his pants into a more comfortable position and reached for the door.

"Oh, oh my."

"Y-you…?"

Kanji was only frozen for a moment. Soon, he darted back around his bed, plucking a shirt from the pile and slipping it on, all while trying to kick some of his loose clothing under the bed. Satisfied, he rushed back to the door.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled. 

"You seem to have gained some new scars."

That was a very Naoto way to say 'hello.' There she stood in the doorway, dressed in, of all things, a tweed suit. 

"Why are you here?" Kanji asked in honest confusion.

"I pray you don't begrudge me for not staying very long, but I happened to be nearby when I got your message. I knew of Yu's reunion plans, and I wish I could have joined you all... Unfortunately, my time is rather limited right now, so this is all I can really manage."

She was so… so confident. She spoke like she was reading a book, the words of which had been written and edited and rewritten to the standards of some picky author… Her eyes were solemn, yet not inhuman. It was hard not to become transfixed, having been confronted by his ex-lover after more than a year of separation…

"I hope what I'm doing here is the right choice. I sincerely mean you no harm, and I know that showing up and saying what I'm about to say may seem quite heartless of me…"

It was the same as it was before. She was just as apologetic back then, a side of herself rarely seen.  _ I'm sorry…  _ he had said it, and she had said it. In each others' arms, it was said. He understood back then, and he understood now. Hooks from somewhere beneath the earth tangled themselves about his ankles, dragging him down slowly but surely. Would he fight, or give in?

"You  _ must  _ let me go, Kanji. I… I want nothing but the best for you. I wouldn't dare lie about such things. I believed I had convinced you that this was the right thing to do. You  _ told  _ me you understood…"

Not once did she waver, but there was something different about her that only Kanji would notice, having spent so much time memorizing each of the quirks of her demeanor. Her guard was down.

"I need you to understand me now, and understand me well. We cannot continue this. If you do not give me up, you will destroy yourself completely."

Kanji had to force the moisture back into his mouth to speak.

"Yeah…" he admitted. "Yeah, I know. I know…"

"Good." 

"B-but… can I kiss you? O-or a hug? Just to say goodbye?"

"I believe…" Naoto sighed, averting her eyes. "...that would be unwise."

For a moment, it was as if  _ she  _ were steeling herself to continue. Such a sight was nothing short of heartbreaking. 

"You understand me, yes?"

"Y-yeah."

"Farewell, then, Kanji. I hope that you will find your answers someday."

"Goodbye, Naoto."

She turned to leave, and he swung the door slowly shut.

His knees bent, his legs refusing to support his weight. His head tipped forward as he sank, and he braced himself against the door handle with both hands. He had fallen into an awkward sort of squat, leaning his weight against the door, unwilling to even think about carrying his own weight anymore. 

Then, his legs slipped out from under him as he let go of the door. Falling limply to the floor, Kanji wept.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes share their totally normal masturbation habits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jeez i went into this wanting to portray/play up the masochism of Kanji's arc and then i keep thinking about him eating animal crackers in p4 and wonder if i'm not being too grimdark/edgy...  
> i'm gonna give the kid a break, don't worry. i just kind of liked how this chapter turned out as a little interlude, too.

_Hey, you'd better watch who you're talkin' to, punk._

_Folding knife._

_Razor blade._

_I would recommend that you avoid any strenuous activity for at least a month. You might feel fine now, but a concussion can-_

_Fists._

_Brick wall._

_F-fucker broke my nose! Y-y-you… I'll fuckin' kill you!_

_Blood._

_Blood._

_His blood._

_Their blood._

Kanji's fingers traced the puffy, red lips of the slice in his arm. The swollen skin radiated heat like a rugburn. He imagined the cells within the flesh fighting to rebuild what was lost, the knife having gone so deep as to leave a significant pit where it had touched. Unaware of him, unaware of why, unaware of his feelings or even what he was, some tiny pieces of him were racing back and forth across that pit, trying to recreate the smooth, unmarked surface that had once been there. It was a fight Kanji knew to be futile, but his body fought it nonetheless. What good would it do to have another scar? Ironically, though his body was trying to fix the wound, all it was doing was making sure the wound would be a part of him forever. What a joke. Maybe it would fade, but it would never leave.

Kanji dug his index finger into one end of it, and with a strangled grunt, pulled down to the other end. The half-formed scab came out with ease, stuck underneath his fingernail.

There they were again. The blood. The pain. These were familiar. 

His teeth clenched enough to fatigue his jaw. The chasm in his arm screamed, slowly leaking thick red. 

He raked his fingernails across the wound again, hissing through his teeth.

Blood smeared across his fingertips.

_What would she think if she saw you like this?_

Immediately, guilt tugged Kanji's stomach into a tight knot, and a cold sweat rushed to his forehead. Gripping onto his leaking bicep, he became sickeningly aware of how erect he was.

...what the fuck was he _doing?_

 _What the fuck was he_ **_thinking?_ **

His clean hand reached into the waistband of his underwear. Sharp pangs radiated from his bicep in time with his heartbeat. It wasn’t about her anymore - she made that much clear - but that didn’t stop shame from creeping in. It was sick, what he was doing. No sane person got off like that, right? 

Fuck it. Didn’t matter. It was far too exhilarating to matter.

………

A dull throb pulled Ryuji from the dreamless fog of the early morning. Not _that_ throb - a painful one, and in his face. His tongue, half slick with stale saliva, flopped out to survey the damage. On the way, it bumped into a foreign obstruction, causing a short, sharp shock to bounce around his head. ...oh, right. _That._ Carefully, he continued to prod at it, testing the extent of the pain. A clump of some kind of crusty substance stuck to the outside of his lip like a barnacle. He briefly recalled that the piercing care pamphlet had mentioned something about "seepage…"

Satisfied and thoroughly disgusted, he flopped to the side to grab his phone. There were no new notifications. 

Wait, really? Nothing?

...maybe he should send another, just to make sure…

He sent the phone back to the home screen, the background of which was an erotic-but-not-too-erotic-just-in-case pin-up of an exceptionally large-breasted Japanese model, and hey, that _other_ throb was still there. It was the morning, after all.

After a quick and somewhat unnecessary glance to confirm that his door was shut, Ryuji pulled up a western porn website. ...what did they call that in english?

P… e... e…

No, that most definitely was not how you spelled it.

P… i… r…

The word autocorrected to 'pierced', so Ryuji filled in the rest - 'guy'.

Too old. Too bald. _Definitely_ too old, yeesh…

Finally, he found something interesting. The thumbnail showed a young man being lovingly choked by a much larger, slightly darker-skinned individual ( _spanish?_ Ryuji thought, forgetting what Mexico was) whose lower body covered all of the action in that still frame. It seemed a little extreme for his tastes, but the bottom looked cute, so he could tolerate it. Ryuji tapped the image.

Instinctually, he skipped to a random point near the start of the video, a hand lazily dragging across the clothed surface of his own groin. His jaw unhinged ever so slightly and a veritable typhoon of blood rushed to his privates. There on the screen, the younger man's legs were kicked up, and between them sat the Hispanic-looking guy, thrusting his tongue into the other man with a passion even Ryuji felt was a little exaggerated. That wasn't what caught his eye, though. Laying half-engorged and reaching practically up to his stomach, the younger man's cock was now in full view. Along the underside, several metal dots could be seen. Bars were placed lengthwise through the underside of his shaft from top to bottom, shining chrome staggered across the delicious, pale pink skin. 

Each one of those rods meant a different needle, cold and steel. Ryuji had felt that very pain, and while it was somewhat of an afterthought at the time… to do that down _there?_

That was effin' _hardcore._ That was some _manly_ shit. You would have to be _so_ committed to your look to do something like that, especially when it would be hidden from others 99% of the time. 

The thought of putting sharp instruments anywhere near his groin was enough to make Ryuji more than a little squeamish, but the end result was… well, it was just plain effin' _sexy._ Was that because of the pain and icky-ness or in spite of it? What was with the pain? Was there a masochist thing going on? Ryuji didn't get anything _sexual_ out of having a needle punched through his face, but the idea _was_ very exciting…

There was already a mess in Ryuji's boxer-briefs. He hadn't even gotten to the sex part of the video, opting instead to stare at the younger man's gleaming privates. 

Pain… what was it about pain?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *george harrison voice* here comes the smut  
> so yeah i'm not entirely satisfied as far as getting across everything i wanted to get across with kanji. i guess with something this short (in comparison to like, a book) it's no surprise i can't get that deep, but hey, there's one more chapter coming  
> i've still got a lot of loose ends i want to tie up character-wise. i have tentatively decided there will only be one more chapter, but i might end up wanting more.

Contact: kanji<3

6:46

yo hope this aint anoyin but

u get that last msg??

8:53

yeah. we can hang.

come to my place? I'll send u the address. 

let me know what works for you.

………

Well, this was just silly. The dude said he didn't want to fool around with Ryuji, but he just invited him to his _hotel room?_ It was most likely he just wanted to meet there first for some reason - maybe he didn't want to travel alone anymore? It would make sense after what happened to him, but, still, the dude could at least get to a _train station…_ unless that's not what he meant. The possibility was there.

Naturally, Ryuji was brimming with a very teenage confidence - the kind that takes 'maybe' as 'yes'. It wasn't long before he was in the lobby of an unfamiliar economy hotel.

 **im here,** Ryuji texted.

**_rm 304, come on up._ **

…

The eff? He wanted to meet in his room?

In a panic, Ryuji realized he did not have a condom. ...did he need one with a guy? 

After thinking about it for another second or two, Ryuji decided that that was a little _too_ presumptuous, even for him. He started towards the stairs. 

**304** **,** read a plaque.

Ryuji knocked. He tapped his foot nervously against the cheap carpet, imagining what Kanji would say at seeing his new accessory. Of course he would have to love it, right? 

All too quickly, the door began to slide open, revealing a tired looking Kanji. His eyes seemed heavy for some reason, and his ragged sweatpants/t-shirt combo looked like the sort of thing one would only dare to use as pajamas. He didn't just get out of bed, did he?

"Yo," Ryuji chirped, grinning without noticing.

"Uhm..." Kanji grunted, not returning the smile. "C'mon in."

Ryuji obeyed, gritting his teeth. So much for a warm welcome. The room was what he expected from that kind of affair. Bed, toilet, shower, TV - what more could someone need on the cheap? He was somewhat surprised at the way Kanji's clothes were strewn about the floor. It reminded him of himself, and the way his mother would remind him how hard it would be to tell what was clean and what wasn't…

"So you _did_ get one," Kanji mumbled.

"Y-yeah! ...you like it?"

Worryingly, when Kanji turned to look again, he had the same tired look on his face. Soon, though, he smiled a tired smile, saying, "Yeah. Looks good."

It was a short distance over to the bed, and, lackluster introductions aside, Ryuji was wondering how this was all gonna start. How did it normally happen? The guy goes first, right? ...obviously that tip was inapplicable here, so he supposed he would defer to the _more experienced_ guy. More than anything, he hoped Kanji would take his shirt off soon. He-

Kanji turned around, still standing. He was… glaring at Ryuji, who almost took a step back at the realization. Well, Akira was right. This was where Ryuji was gonna die. If it was at the hands of a guy like that, maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

For the split second that it mattered, it was a comforting joke. Then Kanji stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Ryuji.

 _"A-"_ Ryuji half-grunted.

No response, though the sound was hardly a question. The arms squeezed tighter and tighter, and for fear of seeming strange, Ryuji hugged back. This was where they would kiss, probably. Hell, Ryuji was surprised Kanji wasn't grabbing his butt by now.

"I guess I'm goin' back on what I said," Kanji affirmed, though it seemed as much like begging as a statement of fact. "Hope you don't mind, but I need this."

Need…?

C'mon, need what?

The hug would not end. If anything, it was getting tighter. The guy wasn't even massaging Ryuji's back, he was just… just _holding_ him.

"I don't got nothin'," Kanji said matter-of-factly. Finally, _finally,_ he loosened his grasp on Ryuji, pulling back to keep glaring into the boy's eyes. "I don't got nothin' else."

Well, that certainly meant… something. Failing to read the room, Ryuji blurted out, "Quit friggin' lookin' at me like that. Makes me think you're gonna stab me or somethin'."

A cracked, jagged smile gave way to laughter as Kanji plopped his ass backwards onto the bed. He massaged his tired face, staring at the wall.

"So, um…" Ryuji prodded, emboldened by Kanji's apparent change in attitude. "We… doin' this thing? I-I mean, I don't wanna be rude or nothin'-"

"Can we talk first?" Kanji asked earnestly. 

"...like, about something?"

"Just whatever. Bullshit. Like before. Like we're friends."

"Sure," Ryuji shrugged. "S'cool with me." 

"A-and can we…" Kanji stuttered. Where did all his confidence go? He made Ryuji look like a little kid just the other day. "I mean, I'd like to lay with you. N' talk."

It was almost laughable how timid the guy was being. Clearly, something had changed his mind about Ryuji, and it would follow that that something had also resulted in his weird attitude… but it didn't matter as long as he was finally letting Ryuji get some. The idea of _not_ getting some had long left his mind. "'Course," Ryuji chuckled, stepping over to the bed. 

As he crawled on, Kanji slid over to accommodate him. With about six inches between them, they lay on opposite sides of the bed facing each other. 

"Kid… turn around," Kanji instructed, exasperated.

"O-oh, sure."

While he would have much rather looked at Kanji than the wall, Ryuji would not complain about the arm that curled around him and tugged him closer. A light breath hit his neck, and his toes curled back. Even the simple sensation of Kanji's chest against his back was unprecedentedly exciting. Hell, they weren't even doing anything, but Ryuji found satisfaction in the idea of simply _being close_ as much as he expected to enjoy _giving a guy a wicked good beej._...was Kanji right in thinking Ryuji was still too immature for this?

Kanji's hand made its way to Ryuji's belly, where it lightly caressed him through his t-shirt. Despite how intimate things were, Ryuji couldn't help but feel embarrassed at his erection. 

"You're not too bad yourself, you know that?"

"Huh?" Ryuji mumbled, very caught off guard. Having been lost imagining the possibilities of his near future, Ryuji was hardly ready for a conversation. 

"Y'know, when you were droolin' all over me the other day 'cause I'm fit and all. You're pretty fit, too."

"I wasn't _droolin',"_ Ryuji protested. Each word meant another burst of air on his neck, and he wondered if he wasn't being tortured on purpose.

"Sure you weren't." Kanji squeezed a little tighter for emphasis. 

A moment passed. For wanting to talk so bad, Kanji sure wasn't making a lot of conversation. As much as Ryuji would be content to just lay like that for a while, he didn't want to be a stick in the mud.

"So… you see your friends?" he asked.

"O-oh, yeah. Guess I did tell you about them, huh?" Kanji said quietly. "They're… good."

"Tell me about em'."

"I-I dunno, they're just normal friends, I guess. I don't think you’d be too interested in that.”

“Ooo-kay,” Ryuji hummed. So: Kanji starts off by complimenting Ryuji, _then_ shuts down some normal everyday small talk. Clearly he was trying to set the mood, or something. Was this ‘pillow talk’? “What _do_ you want to talk about, then?”

“I dunno, man, um…” 

Well, Kanji wasn’t gonna get anyone in the mood with _that_ shit. Ryuji stuck his hips out, brushing his butt against Kanji’s groin. 

“What? Whaddaya wanna talk about?” Ryuji taunted. A hand grabbed his hip tightly, holding it in place.

“Kid- goddamn it, cut that shit out.”

He could protest all he wanted, but he couldn’t stop Ryuji from feeling that growing hardness against his ass. Trying to break free of Kanji’s grip, Ryuji began playfully gyrating against that very hardness.

“I fuckin’ said _STOP!”_

Before he could process anything, Ryuji was in a new place. Some part of his foot hurt like a bitch, and all he could see was white. Evidently, Kanji had shoved him off the bed with some considerable force, and he had slid between the wall and the bed. Meanwhile, a dull, throbbing soreness overtook the back of his head, which he assumed must have contacted the wall just as hard as his stubbed toe. 

Well, this definitely wasn’t sex. Ryuji was sure of that.

He righted himself and peeked over the edge of the bed. Kanji was sitting on the opposite edge, facing the wall. Like a pouting six-year-old, he was holding his head in his hands.

“The eff was that for, dude?”

No response, nor so much as any movement. 

“Hey… you alright?” Ryuji prodded again. 

“I… dunno,” Kanji whispered unsteadily. “I didn’t wanna do nothin’ cause I knew I was gonna fuck up, and then… I fucked up.”

It was unclear whether or not that was the end of whatever strange tangent Kanji had begun, and Ryuji was far too confused to want to either interrupt him or move, so he waited.

“‘S'all I ever do - _fuck up._ It don’t matter whether or not I try not to be, I’m just a _fuckup.”_

"Hey, I mean, if I was pushin' things too far, you got a right to be mad-"

"I ain't _fuckin' mad!"_

...Ryuji supposed that that much was true. If Kanji was mad, he would be blowing up, not breaking down. _Wish I could say I ain't ever seen nothin' like it, but that ain't true._ It wasn't the sort of thing you just let happen. Climbing across the bed, Ryuji slipped an arm around the man's shivering shoulder.

"You…" Kanji managed, turning to meet Ryuji's gaze. It was ugly how red his face was - ugly to see something Kanji was clearly trying to keep hidden. "You still here? Even if you don't care I just hit you, I ain't in the mood to fuck, okay?"

"Nah, man," Ryuji clarified. "I know. I think you need another hug."

As if it were some kind of magic spell, the words sent Kanji flying into Ryuji. It happened so fast, Ryuji wasn't quite sure he wasn't going to end up across the room again, but he instead found himself in another tight embrace, which he returned. Kanji must have really been waiting to hear those words. Tighter and tighter he gripped, awkwardly jostling the younger boy with every heave of his lungs. 

_"I- I'm sorry, kid."_

"Shhh," was all Ryuji could come up with. Maybe it was patronizing treating an older guy like he was a little kid, but it was the most comforting thing he knew to do. He'd picked it up from his own mother, after having come home in tears from elementary school one day. He didn't even remember what had gotten him so upset, but he would never forget her cradling arms. That simple, soothing sound.

_"Shhhh…"_

Soon, Kanji gently pulled himself away, letting himself fall limply back on the bed. His puffy eyes stared at the ceiling. 

"This is… fuckin' embarrassing, huh?" he wondered. 

"Some'n tells me that's a historical question."

"Um… you didn't mean _rhetorical,_ did you?"

"Yeah, that. Whatevs."

The only reply he got was a sarcastic little smile. There was no way things could just move on normally, though.

"So…" Ryuji ventured, "...we talkin' about what just went down? I know you ain't some kinda bipolar weirdo. Well, I don't think so anyway. A-and if you are, that's totally-"

"Hey, it's cool. I guess a lotta the shit I been sayin' musta been pretty cryptic. Or maybe pathetic, I dunno. Maybe both."

"It was a lil' obnoxious."

"Well," Kanji chuckled, "I'm sure you'll forgive me."

"Psh _yeah,_ maybe if you-" 

…

No, now was not the time for sexual advances like that. Even if he hadn't immediately developed a Pavlovian response from being flung off the bed, Ryuji wouldn't be that insensitive. It's not that he was any less horny, but it just felt like a dick move. Kanji was more than just a hunk, right? He had to have _something_ going on to be getting all emotional. 

"Ehh, nevermind," Ryuji corrected. "How about we start this over? We lay together and talk, but this time, y'know, you actually _say_ some shit."

An oddly somber smile crossed Kanji's face. For a moment, it seemed as if Ryuji's request had instilled some degree of legitimate trepidation in the older boy.

"Sure," Kanji sighed with a sniffle. "Guess if I'm gonna cry like a bitch in front of a stranger, I might as well tell em' why."

"Can I, um…" Ryuji attempted. "Can I, uh, hold _you_ this time?"

"Sure, I guess. I ain't never really been the little spoon."

"The what?"

"Don't sweat it, kid. Just c'mere."

No matter how genuinely concerned he was, there was no way Ryuji wasn’t going to get at least a little excited at the chance to touch Kanji again. He slid into place, swinging his arm around the guy’s torso as had been done to him. His fingers splayed out across the tantalizingly hard surface of Kanji’s stomach. There was a little grunt, perhaps of surprise, or maybe it was a warning. 

“So, what’s up?” Ryuji asked. “You sure as hell ain’t got nothin’ to lose now.”

“Mm. That don’t make it any easier admittin’ I got all pissy over a girl.”

 _“Pshh,_ that’s nothin’. I seen dudes cry cause their favorite baseball team lost. Like, grown-ass, forty-somethin’-ass-year-old men.”

Mercifully, Kanji chuckled. “Yeh, true. She’s from back home, if you were wonderin’. Well, not really, actually… but that’s where we got to know each other.”

“Tell me about her.”

The mountain under Ryuji’s arm shifted, and he thought for a moment he might have crossed some unseen line, but it turned out Kanji was just reaching for something. ...his hand, in fact. Kanji’s fingers interlaced themselves between his own from the outside, pulling both hands towards the older boy’s chest. Absently, and almost _too_ intimately, Kanji’s thumb stroked the side of Ryuji’s hand.

“She’s smart. Scary fuckin’ smart, in a ‘doesn’t take shit from no-one’ kinda way. ...I told you I liked confidence, right? Didn’t matter what she was up against, she could figure anything out.”

“Jeez. I’d just be jealous.”

 _“Right?_ ...I don’t think I was though, back then. There was just somethin’... I dunno. I couldn’t talk right. Couldn’t do shit right at all. She musta either thought it was cute or super pitiful when I asked her out. I just dunno why I kept holdin’ on when shit started fallin’ apart, y’know? It’s like, I knew we shoulda just stayed friends, but I couldn’t give up on the idea of bein’ with her.”

Friends, huh? ‘Stayed friends,’ no less. ...when this was all over and Kanji went home, would they ‘stay friends?’ Maybe Ryuji had done the guy a big favor and maybe they had spent some rather candid time together, but could Kanji really compare to Akira? Maybe in time, but there wasn’t time. This wasn’t the sort of thing that would hold up long-distance. And either way, it’s not like there was any kind of relationship rulebook that said you had to be friends first - how common was the idea of ‘love at first sight’? In fact, just because two people could be friends doesn’t mean they could be intimate. Take Ann, for instance. As hard as it was to say for someone so immature, Ryuji _did_ love her. He loved her just as much as he loved his other friends… so why not date? It wasn’t because of her embarrassed-teenage-girl prudishness every time he made some kind of advance. It wasn’t even because they didn’t have enough in common or any other simple, everyday reason like that. The truth was, they were just plain better for each other where they were. For as much as their little back-and-forth horseplay was just that - friendly horseplay - there came a point where Ryuji wondered how much of her he could tolerate, and vice versa. Could he really spend a significant amount of time with her, like, every _day?_

“Penny for your thoughts,” Kanji interrupted. “Y’got awful quiet there, kid.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I’m just thinkin’ about relationships or whatever. I ain’t really never been stuck on someone like you said you were. Musta sucked.”

“Whaddaya call this, then?” Kanji chuckled. 

“Huh?”

“A guy doesn’t get a piercing just to impress another guy if they ain’t ‘stuck on’ em.”

...yeah, that was fair. But...

"I dunno, man," Ryuji stumbled. "You're- …I guess you're the first person I ever felt ok comin' out to, even if it was a bit of a mess. My buddy - my best friend - he didn't take it so good."

"No?"

"Well, I shouldn't say that - he didn't act all weirded out or nothin', but it didn't sit right with me. Felt like he shoulda said more. He's not the sorta guy that holds stuff back usually."

"I know the type."

"He's the coffee shop guy, if you were wonderin'. Seemed to be more concerned that you were gonna eff me over or somethin'. It kinda pissed me off, honestly."

"He's just worried about you. Knowin' me, he's probably right."

Ryuji pulled his hand away. "The hell do you mean?"

"Like I said, kid, I'm a fuckup. It don't matter what I do, I always end up back where I shouldn't be."

"Back…?"

"I used to…" Kanji sighed, laying his near-empty hand against the ruffled sheet. "Used to fight a lot. Street punks, wannabe gangsters… I thought I grew out of it. I made a better life for myself - a peaceful life. The whole time, though, I been kickin' myself over that girl. That ain't peace. When I stood up to those guys that other night, it was like I never left. Sure, I got my shit pushed in, but it didn't feel _wrong._ It wasn't about savin' anyone, neither."

"You… like it?"

"Like what?"

"Gettin' roughed up."

Kanji's breath slowed. "I dunno. I ain't got no deathwish. It ain't like I feel like I deserve it, but…"

"Well, _I_ don't want you to get hurt."

"If I had a penny every time I heard that..." Kanji chuckled. "N' still, here I am." He traced the length of the fresh bandage on his arm.

Kanji's outlook really seemed strange. The guy that looked like a middleweight MMA champion was really that vulnerable? Besides, how hard was it to just _not_ get in a fight, and why would he be so drawn to that anyway? He wasn't a philosopher or anything, but he was definitely more articulate than Ryuji. Where was the roadblock? Why did he have to get punched in the face as an emotional outlet and Ryuji could just cruise along? It's not like he was totally carefree or anything - Kamoshida's scars were a long way from being faded, both literally and figuratively - but there was no way he was gonna make trouble for himself just for the sake of it. 

"So, what? You just givin' up?" Ryuji pressed. It didn't matter if it made Kanji mad, the guy had to buck the eff up. 

"I ain't-"

Another sigh. 

"Maybe you really are good for me, kid," Kanji finally decided. 

"What?"

"It's just easy to turtle up and do shit the way I always done it. Way easier than talkin' about how weak I am. I ain't had no one to say shit like this to in too long. I guess it's a good thing you're a stranger."

"Guess so."

"An'... I ain't givin' up. Not just cause some chick left me. Not just cause it feels safe to wallow in my own shit. Matter 'fact, c'mere."

Pulling himself from Ryuji's grasp, Kanji rolled over. Before the boy could say or do anything, there was a pair of lips between his. It was startlingly gentle, the way they fit together. Heat immediately rushed to his groin, which he instinctively pressed against Kanji. As those lips slipped away, it felt as if his face - no, his whole body was melting, turning his heart and legs to jelly.

"This is…" was all he could manage. Maybe Kanji was just vulnerable at the moment and maybe it wasn't super moral to profit from that in the form of sex, but still - _sex?_ Like Ryuji would turn _that_ down. 

"You want me, right?" Kanji asked. 

A nod. 

"Well, I think I want you, too. Not just to get my rocks off, neither. You said you felt okay comin', out to me, yeah? Well, I felt pretty good bitchin' n' moanin' to you, so… maybe we both deserve this, huh?"

"You _better_ not be effin' with me."

He wasn't. Their lips met again, only this time, Kanji pulled Ryuji's body even closer. Ryuji took the hint and squeezed back. Judging by the new bulge rubbing against his own hardness, he wasn't the only one who was excited to do this. It all happened so quickly he hardly had time to think about how crazy it felt. His _first_ kiss. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the whole thing was just _otherworldly_ . Kanji had practically _taken_ the kiss from him, which, in addition to the dull friction that ground against his privates, made it hard to breathe. 

It was even harder when Kanji's hand slipped up his shirt and onto his chest. Calloused fingers dragged across his soft skin. A thumb caught his nipple, and he gasped involuntarily, his hips shivering against the older boy. 

_"You're pretty sexy, lil' bro,"_ Kanji whispered.

_"Holy shit…"_

This was no time to try and figure out dirty talk. Ryuji could hardly think _normal_ thoughts, let alone think of something that might turn this guy on. Besides, a tongue was now teasing it's way between his lips. It took his entire will to realize that he should meet it with his own. Startlingly, when he made contact, Kanji pushed forward, gently sucking at Ryuji's own tongue. 

_"Fuck,"_ Ryuji languished. _"This shit is so crazy, bro."_

_"You like it?"_

_"Y-yeah. Do that again, dude."_

Eagerly, Ryuji pushed his way back into Kanji's mouth, where he was received with just as much enthusiasm. It was almost embarrassing how much of their mixing saliva dribbled over onto Ryuji's chin. Every time their faces separated, they were heated by mutual plumes of hot breath. 

"Agh, _eff!"_ Ryuji suddenly grunted. It felt like something stabbed him in the face.

"Y'alright?"

Gingerly, Ryuji patted at his mouth, finding the source of the pain. 

"Oh, yeah," Kanji mumbled. "Shit's still fresh, huh? We oughta be careful about that."

"It don't hurt too bad. Just don't rip it outta my face, okay?"

"Hey, I ain't no sadist. Seriously, though, if it hurts-"

Nothing so simple as a sore piercing was going to stop Ryuji from getting more of Kanji. He pushed back in, puckering sloppily, and his intentions seemed to be understood. 

Bolder than ever, Ryuji slid his hand from Kanji's back into the waistband of his pants. Like the rest of him, his butt was hard and lean, and it almost seemed stupid to have been expecting something a little girlier. Kanji hummed a little laugh into his mouth as he gave it a futile squeeze. 

“You’re a freakin’ animal…” Ryuji marvelled.

With a cocky grin, Kanji pulled away. With an exaggerated flourish, he reached for the seam of his shirt and tugged it off. 

_“SO_ not fair,” Ryuji appended, now shamelessly ogling the chiseled body before him.

Kanji grabbed the stunned boy's wrist and guided it to his chest. Instinctively, Ryuji slid his thumb along the length of a faded pink line that cut across the otherwise smooth skin. A sigh escaped his throat before he realized what he was doing.

"Hey, c'mon," Kanji grumbled. "We don't gotta think about that stuff right now. We're tryna have fun, right?"

"Yeah," Ryuji reluctantly agreed. He ran his hand further down Kanji's body, feeling at the mottled marks like braille. "But… don't you wish they could go away?"

"I- I do…"

Shit. Kanji was right, this was shitty. Why did Ryuji have to go and say that? There was no way it didn't hurt the guy to remind him of that sort of thing. 

Refocused, Ryuji dove his head towards Kanji's chest, taking the man's nipple in his mouth. Metal clinked at his teeth.

"F-fuck-" was the only response until Kanji grabbed Ryuji by the hips and pulled his groin close again, rutting against the boy more emphatically than ever. 

If gay porn taught Ryuji anything, it was to never underestimate the sensitivity of the male nipple. 

Daringly, he pinched his teeth onto it ever so slightly. 

_"Ngh-!"_

"Too much?" Ryuji worried.

"No, that fuckin' felt _good."_

Beginner's luck, Ryuji guessed. Although, this guy really wasn't as experienced as he looked, so maybe it wasn't that much of an achievement, but-

"Bite me."

"U-uhm-" Ryuji gasped, trying to find a way to process that information while his cock was still being teased from below. "Really?"

"Yeah. Anywhere. Hard."

Processing… processing… nope. That was way too out of the blue for Ryuji to just do without discussing it first. How hard was too hard? Effin'... why?

"Oh, um," Kanji fumbled, slowing the gyration of his hips to a halt, "i-if you ain't comfortable with that, you don't gotta."

"S-sorry," was all Ryuji could say.

"Nah, I should be the one who's sorry. I shouldn't'a sprung that on-"

A brief pause. 

"Shit, listen to me. Bringin' shit down again. Don't sweat it, it's nobody's fault," Kanji decided. "Besides, we ain't even gotten to the real action yet."

As if to reinforce his assertion, Kanji brought his hand against the outside of Ryuji's pants, squeezing at the rock-hard length of his cock. The boy made a startled, strangled sort of gurgle. 

"I-I should-" he started, reaching for his fly.

"Yeah, you should," Kanji agreed.

With a surprising lack of fanfare, Ryuji tore his pants and underwear off, tossing them off the bed and freeing his aching cock. It was but a brief respite from overwhelming stimulation as Kanji seemed uninterested in teasing him, instead grabbing ahold of him outright. 

_"-ngh-"_ Ryuji whimpered, startled. 

"You like that, lil' bro?"

_"Mnyeah-"_

Even the slow, gentle strokes felt like heaven when administered by Kanji. It was the kind of intense warmth usually reserved for 'it's been a while' jack off sessions. Perhaps it was just the excitement of the moment. Perhaps there was something special about Kanji that let him make Ryuji feel so good.

Catching his breath, Ryuji reached under an intruding arm towards the older boy's groin. 

"Oh," Kanji mumbled.

 _"Yeah,"_ Ryuji affirmed.

The grip on Ryuji's privates was gone, but that was a-ok because he was watching Kanji's jeans slide off of his thick thighs. The bulge in his briefs was… scary, to say the least. Maybe it was just a trick of the light…?

The briefs were off too, and Ryuji was right to be scared. With how tall he was, perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising that Kanji's privates were proportional to the rest of him, but on top of the sheer _size_ of the thing…

A metal ring glinted in the light, punched through the underside of its engorged head. 

"Hoooo-ly _fuck,"_ Ryuji whispered.

"Guess I shoulda warned you, huh?" 

"C-can I…?" Ryuji asked, reaching out.

"I didn't whip it out just for show n' tell. Go on, kid."

Well, there was no reason to waste the chance. Without so much as a second thought, Ryuji gripped onto Kanji's thick shaft, which felt so heavy in his hand that it was almost emasculating to compare to his own very average member. 

There would be no time for self-pity, as Kanji didn't seem to care what size Ryuji was. 

As Ryuji began stroking, Kanji tensed in his hand. The heartbeat against Ryuji's palm was not his own. Each of his little chirps of pleasure was answered by an amused hum from the older boy, who, when Ryuji looked up, had never looked away from his face. There was something special about Kanji's expression - a comfort that had not previously shown itself.

Then again, the sight of Kanji's foreskin dragging across the tip of his fat cock was just as exciting. So exciting, in fact:

"H-hold on," Ryuji grunted. "I wanna…"

He crawled lower on the bed, and Kanji laid flat to accommodate him. Cock in hand, he moved between Kanji's legs, bending down to get a closer look.

"Bro, it's _so_ big."

"I know."

"You could effin' _kill_ me with this thing."

"I know…"

"I don't think it's gonna even fit ins-"

"Look, I _know, okay!?"_ Kanji snapped, suddenly glaring down at Ryuji. "I-"

With a sigh, he relaxed again.

"Sorry for yellin'," he continued, "it just ain't exactly been much of a gift in the past, and it's makin' me…"

"Oh," Ryuji realized. It wouldn't fit in him without a little practice, so there probably wasn't any way it would ever fit in a _girl,_ he thought. While he always wished he had a little more going on down south for himself, there was definitely a point where size might make things awkward with a girl. Might make things impossible. Might eff with a relationship…

"The past is the past though, I guess," Kanji sighed. "If you like it, I sure as shit ain't complainin', huh?"

"Like it?" Ryuji laughed, glad to be back in safe territory. "Shit, bro. I effin' _love_ it."

As if for emphasis, he dipped down and pressed his tongue against the throbbing underside and dragged it up to the top. As he repeated the motion, a hand began to knead at the blonde fluff on the back of his head. 

"Shit…" he whispered, unsure of what to say but sure that more needed to be said. 

When he dipped down again, he went even further, slipping one of Kanji's balls into his mouth. Instead of the usual hum, the response he got was a vulnerable little groan. _Gotcha,_ he thought, pressing his face in further and savoring every sensation - the taste, the texture, the _smell…_

Still stroking, Ryuji thought about that video. Kanji definitely seemed more like a top, but that didn't mean he wouldn't like _that,_ right? Maybe it was a little weird to be sticking your tongue down _there,_ but it would probably make him feel good, right? That was all he wanted. 

Daringly, Ryuji dipped even lower.

"Oh, kid, you don't gotta _agh-"_

There it was again - that sound. Proof that Kanji wasn't just putting on a face to pacify Ryuji. Proof that it felt so good he couldn't help but give in.

Ryuji slathered the flat of his tongue against Kanji's pert hole, which tensed and relaxed at the stimulation.

"Shoulda- _-mnn-_ -fuckin' shaved," Kanji lamented.

"Mm-mm," Ryuji disagreed, pulling away briefly. "S' manly. Hair's hot."

Excited by Kanji's growing vulnerability, Ryuji stuffed his tongue inside with some effort. 

_"F-_ **_fuck,"_ **Kanji sputtered hopelessly. 

It was Ryuji's turn to be smug, squeezing tighter around Kanji's cock and plunging deeper inside of him with every thrust of his tongue.

_"Stop, stopstopstop-"_

He did.

"Fuck, kid," Kanji gasped. "You had me on the edge, there."

"Innat good, though?" Ryuji wondered, kneeling upright. 

"Not if you're still plannin' on fuckin' me."

"I- uh…"

"Well I ain't fuckin' _you._ Like you said, this thing'd friggin' kill you without a little practice. I ain't explainin' _that_ to no cops."

"R-right," Ryuji agreed, envisioning the potential struggle of fitting all 23 (? 24?) centimeters of Kanji inside of him. The meager amount of experimentation he'd done with his own fingers was mostly _okay_ at best, but the awkward pain and cleanup made it a rare occurrence. He'd much rather simply imagine another boy inside of him and the intimacy implied therein. Kanji would certainly fill that niche, and it _was_ exciting to imagine taking _so_ much up the ass, but, yeah, it just wasn't happening without some more experience. Compared to the two or so fingers Ryuji had tried in the past, Kanji might as well have been trying to fist the kid. 

Kanji bent to the side, swinging his arm under the bed and presumably into a bag. It came back up gripping a clear plastic bottle.

"All'at spit'd probably work just fine, but might as well go the extra mile, yeah?" he asked, squeezing a glob of lube onto his hand.

"Yeah," Ryuji said, but he wasn't really agreeing with anything. He had just been prompted for an answer, and that was what the one square inch of his brain that wasn't fixated on Kanji's naked body could come up with. 

He scooted forwards, slotting himself between Kanji's spread legs and leaning in. In a moment of strange zen, all of the panic and excitement briefly disappeared. This was simple, right? Just do it like they do in videos. Hell, just do it like you want to do it, right? How hard could it be? 

Nope. No more zen. This was insane. Kanji was almost everything he ever wanted, how could he be calm? It wasn't like he was gonna _stop,_ but if he kept going, he thought his heart might explode in his chest. This guy - this crazy strong and unbelievably sexy guy - was giving himself over to Ryuji. Nevermind his heart, he was worried his cock might explode right then and there.

"I'm ready, kid. You don't gotta be gentle. I want you to _fuck_ me," Kanji practically growled.

"...you been doin' great so far," he added, sensing Ryuji's apprehension. "I know you wanna fuck the shit outta me. No point chickenin' out now."

As much of a jab as it was, Kanji's warm smile turned the sentiment into real encouragement. 

Ryuji pushed closer.

Warmth surrounded him, pulling him in. It tugged mercilessly at his aching cock and turned his brain to mush. Fuck, if _this_ was what sex was like…

"'Zat… feel good?" Ryuji whispered. 

"Feels better'n I ever felt."

Instead of agreeing, Ryuji pulled back again, relishing the pure, electric pleasure emanating from his groin. As he thrust in again, Kanji's insides squirmed and squeezed at him, sucking every last bit of ragged affection from his body. 

_"Mnh-yeah, fuck me, lil'_ _bro."_

**_Fuck._ **

Each thrust was bolder than the last - deeper, faster, harder. Ryuji's upper body fell weakly against Kanji's, his head drooping onto the hard flesh of the older boy's scarred chest. All of his energy was devoted to keeping his hips moving - maintaining that un-fucking-believable sensation that was practically radiating from below. Yet again, he found his head being cradled by Kanji, the tingling from his scalp mixing with the building fire in the rest of his body.

 _"Fuck,"_ he whimpered through ragged breath. 

_"Fuck me, Ryuji. C'mon, make me feel good. Make me cum, lil' bro."_

Ryuji wished he had something to say to that that might be just as unspeakably dirty and undeniably honest… 

Faster. He worked his hips as hard as his body would allow, the sound of his hips smacking against Kanji's tight ass now filling the room and underscoring their alternating grunts and groans.

_'Bite me. Anywhere. Hard.'_

Somehow the memory slipped back into Ryuji's mind. With the way he felt at that point, it almost seemed silly to have rejected the request.

He lifted his head and dug his teeth into Kanji's collarbone.

 _"Ngh-ah_ ** _nnn-"_** came a strangled, pathetic whine from Kanji's throat. There it was again: that real, raw ecstasy that he seemed so reluctant to give in to. 

_"You like that, b-big bro?"_ Ryuji attempted.

_"Fuck, fuck- I'm gonna cum. Do it again, doitagaindoitagain-"_

Positioning himself a little closer to Kanji's neck, Ryuji obliged, digging even harder into the soft skin.

Kanji wailed.

All of a sudden, Ryuji found himself joining in. He'd entirely ignored any prospect of trying to stave off his orgasm, and consequently found himself spilling over inside of Kanji, hilt deep and quivering. Kanji's insides pulsed with every tremor of his own climax, milking spurt after desperate spurt of cum from the boy on top of him.

Spent, Ryuji fell across Kanji like a ragdoll. Short, ragged breaths jostled their limp bodies.

"Oh _shit,"_ Ryuji finally whispered.

"Hm?"

"I just totally came inside you," he lamented. 

"Yeah, that was hot."

"B-but-"

"Relax. Ain't like either of us exactly get around."

"...right."

Sheesh, talk about snapping back to reality. That wasn’t any way to end things.

“Hey,” Ryuji said, leaning in for a kiss.

Kanji’s head snapped away. “Dude, you just ate my ass. Drink some water or somethin’ first.”

Oh, that was much better.

………

“Yo, uhm,” Kanji began. “That was good, right?”

Half-naked and freshly showered, Ryuji pensively stroked the arm that was wrapped around him.

“I feel like I should be the one askin’ that, but… for what it’s worth, I thought it was kickass,” Ryuji replied. “I-I mean, it was great, is what I mean. I liked it a lot. I like, uh… I like you.”

“I like you, too, kid.”

“...you ain’t got any plans or nothin’ today, do you?”

“Not today.”

“You mind if we stay together a little longer?”

“I feel like _I_ should be the one askin’ that.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious I started this with no idea where I wanted it to go? Idk man I just kinda wrote myself into a corner and shit the bed, it feels like. I dunno. I tried to get some arcs going- make shit make sense and be like, yknow, a story...  
> I really thought I could wrap this up better, but I dunno. Sorry if this isnt the best conclusion. I kind of wrote it like an idiot. I'm still learning how to do these longer fics right, and I didn't want to leave this one dangling. I think I've learned from it, though. If anything, it has some of the juiciest smut I've ever written, so I at least hope you folks could get off on that much (let me know in the comments)

Contact: Akira

9:28

Yo 

9:56

Hello?

10:43

?

………

Ryuji grunted, casting his lure back into the pond. Air skated across the cool pond, negating the warmth of the afternoon sun.

"Sure you don't wanna give it a shot?" Ryuji asked.

"Nah, I know I'm crap at fishin'. Never had the knack," Kanji explained. 

As if on cue, something pulled hard at Ryuji's line, and he frantically grappled for the reel. Up out of the water ascended an empty, gleaming hook.

"Bein' honest, I'm kinda crap, too," Ryuji sighed, sharing a laugh.

"...hey, not to change the subject, but I got some stuff to say," Kanji mumbled. 

"Yeah? You ain't pregnant or nothin', right?"

 _"Ass,"_ Kanji grunted, shoving Ryuji in the shoulder. "I'm goin' home tomorrow. Tonight's the last time my friends and me are gettin' together."

"Oh, shit. I was meanin' to ask when you were leavin'."

"Yeah. So…"

"So?"

"So I dunno really where that leaves us."

Ryuji sat his fishing rod aside, fiddling with the latch on his small tacklebox. "Yeah, that's a good point. I prolly couldn't even visit unless I had a good reason. And some money, I guess."

"I just wish we had a little more time to figure out what this shit is, y'know? I'm still at a loss there."

"C'mon, we're at least _friends."_

"Friends don't fuck, so we're a little more than that whether we like it or not…"

Kanji looked away and sighed as if lost in thought, but didn't finish the sentence.

"What? Some'n wrong?" Ryuji asked.

"It's just… speakin' a' friends, I mighta shat all over one of my buddies the other day. Said some stuff he didn't deserve to hear…"

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No," Kanji refused, and when his reply was met with an incredulous look, he sighed. "Okay, fuck. I guess it ain't the most embarassin' thing ever."

"Yeah, bro," Ryuji affirmed, laying a hand on Kanji's thigh, "s' what I'm here for, ain't it?"

"Kid's named Hanamura. Anyone'll tell you he's a stand-up guy, but he ain't been the kindest to me, I guess. Back when I was still figurin' shit out, he had a real big 'gay-panic' streak in im'. Anytime I was around you could tell he was uncomfortable just cause he knew what _I_ was inside."

"You came out to a guy like that? I mean, that don't mean you deserve no torment or nothin', but-"

"No. It ain't so simple. It's hard to explain. Point is, he mellowed out, but… I guess I ain't never forgave him. We ain't never had a talk that candid, and when Naoto - the girl - cut me off for good he was the only one I could ask. Turns out all I was doin' was draggin' him into a conversation we shouldn'ta' had, and I kinda flew off the handle."

"Well, if you're better now, I'm sure you could just hit him up again. Just tell im' how you feel, yeah?"

"Yeah… I know I should, but… it still pisses me off, all that shit he said. He treats me like he ain't even said it. Like he ain't never done nothin' wrong."

"If he's a friend, you shouldn't give up on him. I- I mean, I don't even know the guy, but I think it would at least help you to talk to him."

"Yeah," Kanji sighed. "We'll see…"

"You're gonna message me, right?" Ryuji teased, dropping his head down into Kanji's lap. 

"You done fishin'?"

"For now, yeah. Answer the question, jerk-off," he playfully ordered, snuggling in and caressing Kanji's calf. 

Amused, Kanji cradled the boy's head, tussling his already-messy hair. "Pretty bold, now that you got a taste, eh? Yeah. We'll keep in touch."

………

"Busy all weekend?" was the extent of Akira's greeting. While he was scarcely ever 'cheerful', it was an awfully cold greeting. 

"Kinda? Why?" Ryuji mumbled. 

"You were with him, weren't you?"

"I mean, yeah, we hung out a bit."

"You didn't do anything with him, did you?"

 _"Heh,_ uh, nothin' crazy, bro," Ryuji chuckled, and although he wasn't perceptive enough to understand exactly how obvious his darting eyes and unsure tone made it, he knew Akira would see that he was lying. 

"I just-" Akira started. "...I don't wanna be a dick, cause you're free to do whatever you want - and I know I might seem like I'm being… overprotective…"

A pit began to form in Ryuji's stomach. Up until that point, it felt like everything he had done had felt like the exact right thing to do. He felt good with Kanji, especially so given their little encounter, so why doubt himself now? What was it that Akira was so bothered by?

"You alright?" Ryuji wondered. "If somethin's goin' on-"

"Damn it, dude," Akira sighed, looking away. Given how rare it was for him to show any kind of strong emotions, the bare disappointment in his voice was startling. "...I wanted it to be me."

"You… 'it'?"

"Your first time. _My_ first time…"

_"Bro…"_

No effin' way. It had to be some kind of sick prank - so sick that it made Ryuji _feel_ sick. Akira wasn't…

But Akira was the first person Ryuji was really all that close to. They were almost comically intimate considering the fact that they were entirely platonic friends. In the few short months they had known each other, Ryuji rarely spent a moment without him. 

He just didn't think Akira - the flashy playboy who actually knew how to talk to chicks (and it should not be understated how impressive and enviable that was to Ryuji) - was goddamn _gay._

"Do you love him?" Akira asked.

Well… sure, sex wasn't love. Ryuji knew that much. And they did seem to like each other plenty…

But what exactly did Kanji mean to Ryuji? They were fairly compatible, and Kanji's seemingly deep emotional damage definitely wasn't a dealbreaker. Compared to Akira, though…

"I- I don't think so. I mean, sure, I love him, but I don't, like, _love_ love him."

"And me?"

"Yeah," Ryuji said without hesitating. "Course I do. You're my bro."

"Don't think too hard about all this," Akira said quietly, "cause it's my fault for not telling you sooner, and normally I'm pretty up front about these things, but… I love you, Ryuji. _Love_ love."

"O-oh." 

"Whatever makes you happy, I want you to do, okay? I don't want to guilt you into cutting him off, but… I just never knew you were-"

 _"Bitch!"_ Ryuji suddenly blurted out. "I didn't know _you_ were gay, bro! Shit, what the hell!"

"Um-"

"Dude, I wanted to get in your pants way the eff before we got to know each other! I- I mean, it ain't just about _that,_ but, fuck, if I'd'a known back then I wouldn't'a…"

"Leave it to you to turn my emotional confession into whatever this is."

 _"Fuck!_ Now I don't know what the shit to do. Like, with Kanji, I can't just kick him to the curb - I mean, I like him, and we already-"

Oh shit. Did Ryuji really just say all of that? Sure, it was his true feelings, but he really shouldn't have been so aggressive given the circumstances. 

"I-" Ryuji stuttered. "I _gotta_ stop rushin' into shit," he whispered to himself.

"It's not like I'm gonna leave you," Akira said. "I'll be right here, bro."

………

_Some weeks later._

"How much for this?"

Kanji looked up. Across the shop, a young man was holding up a pastel pink ball of yarn. When he came in, Kanji had greeted him as with any customer, but was too engrossed in his current project - a striped scarf - to really take notice. Now that his focus was undivided, Kanji saw that the man was unexpectedly handsome, black hair flowing past his shoulders.

"Um, five hundred for the little ones, a thousand for the bigger ones."

"Tight," the guy cheered, grabbing another spool and taking them both to the counter. 

"You, uh, into knittin'?" Kanji asked.

"Yeah. Can't say I'm as good as whoever makes this stuff," the guy said, gesturing towards the shelf of Kanji's little knitted trinkets, "but I try." He looked down at the needles in Kanji's hands. "Oh, damn. Did _you_ make em'?"

"Guilty," Kanji chuckled. 

"That's sick, man."

"Hey, not to pry, but are you new in town?"

"Yup. Came here for work."

"You wanna talk knittin' sometime? I can't leave the shop right now, but maybe we could get some coffee or somethin'..."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, you can follow me at @DegenerateMoron


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